The Staff of Orkney
by Ms. Snape
Summary: An ancient artifact created by Merlin, the Staff of Orkney heightens the strengths--and weaknesses--of any wizard who wields it. (Harry begins to discover his true potential. Lupin, Sirius, and Snape must put aside old grudges.) {Complete}
1. A Cold Begining

Author's Ramblings: This is my first attempt at Fan Fiction.  It took me a while to write it then a while to get the guts to post it after I began. (I started this October 2000.)  Since it is my first fic, it has an original character, (but believe me, if I had Mary-Sue'd, I would have taken it down.) However, he's original enough that I decided to keep him.  Even though he is related to a main character and tries to steal the limelight, I think I was able to save the story from him, especially towards the end, (and no, I do not do this by simply killing him off). (Listen to me, beating myself up here.)  Anyway, enough of that, enough of the parenthesis, let's just get on with the story.

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter universe.

Chapter I

A Cold Beginning

A chilly wind blew down out of the churning dark sky across the small station.  It was the dreariest September first that Harry had ever seen since he had begun at Hogwarts five Septembers ago.  The students all had to brace themselves as they were pounded by the relentless wind and rain.

An early winter.

Hermione looked around nervously to see if the luggage had already been taken in, worrying about Crookshanks in his basket.

It was with numb fingers and rattling teeth that they entered through the main doors.  Peeves greeted them from the inside as perhaps the weather was even too much for him.

"Hawwy Pwotter," said Peeves, doing a somersault.  "Professor Snape's _favorite_ pupil.  Have we a surprise for you!"

"Go away," Harry said drearily.  He was wet, cold, and Professor Snape was the last person he wanted mentioned.

"Go bother the first years," Ron suggested.

"My, my," and Peeves clapped his hands together.  "You'll be delighted too.  Double the trouble!"  With that, he flew off down the corridors and Harry and Ron didn't give him another thought as they entered the warmth of the Great Hall.

They all sat down at the Gryffindor table.  The torches had been lit along with candles in great candelabras at the center of the tables.  The ceiling above was reflecting the black, swirling storm clouds outside.

"I can't believe that the summer is over," Ron contemplated looking up at the ceiling.

"September is still summer, Ron," Hermione piped up.  "Fall does not begin until September twenty-second."

Ron turned to Harry and made a face then turned his attention to the steaming butter beer that had suddenly appeared before them.  "How very nice of the house elves," he commented with an eye on Hermione.

"I hope you two aren't going to be as bad as last year," Harry said, picking up his own mug.

Suddenly, the bench they were seated on gave a jolt as Fred and George slid quickly onto it.  Ron's butter beer sloshed onto his robes.

"Awe, look what you did," Ron said, dabbing at his robes with a napkin.  "This better wash out…"

"You won't believe it!"  George blurted out, completely ignoring his younger brother's complaints.

"We didn't believe it ourselves," Fred added.

"Unless you fed Malfoy a canary cream, I don't care," said Ron, still perturbed.

"No, it's not funny.  It's bad actually," George began.

"Real bad," Fred continued. "But feeding Malfoy a Canary Cream doesn't sound like a bad idea…"

"It's about Snape," said George, interrupting.

Harry lifted his eyebrows as he continued to drink his butter beer.  It was warming him up so well that he didn't want to put down his mug.

"We heard Professor Dumbledore talking about the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," continued Fred.  "Said that he had a hard time finding one for this year."

"It's Snape!"  George exclaimed.

"Yeah, I think he finally got the job."

Harry suddenly gagged on his butter beer and found himself in the same predicament as Ron.

"Snape? Nooo," Harry moaned.

"I can't believe that Dumbledore would let him."

Harry had to agree with Hermione.  Some how he found it hard to believe that Dumbledore would let an ex-Death Eater take over Defense Against the Dark Arts.  But then again, maybe Dumbledore saw Snape's past experience as an advantage.  Voldemort was back in power and who better to teach how to defend against a Death Eater than one who used to be one himself?  Still, this was bad news.

"Suppose we won't be looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts anymore," said Harry as the doors opened at the end of the hall and Hagrid and Professor McGonagall led in the shivering wet first years.

"I wonder who's going to teach Potions," Ron thought out loud.

They looked up at the staff table where there were four empty chairs.  Two belonged to Hagrid and McGonagall and one belonged to Snape—he seemed to be missing.  The fourth had to be for the new Potions master.

The Sorting had already begun and they turned their attention to the Sorting Hat, applauding every time a new Gryffindore stood up from the four-legged stool and joined their table.

"Ron, Harry," Hermione suddenly hissed.

They looked in the direction that she was pointing.  The great doors had opened once again admitting two figures.  After the doors shut, they walked briskly across the grey stone floor.  One of the approaching wizards was unmistakable. Greasy, shoulder length, black hair, sallow skin, and a hooked nose: Professor Severus Snape, the most hated professor of the school. He was wearing deep green robes and his hallmark black cloak swished ominously as he walked.  Usually seen alone glaring at students or his fellow professors, he was surprisingly in deep conversation with the wizard who had entered the hall with him.

No one had ever seen the tall and thin wizard before.  To begin with, he was markedly younger.  He probably was not more than twenty.  His hair was thick, jet-black and tied back into a ponytail that fell down past his waist.  It was bound with several big silver rings, and might have been admittedly impressive if not so incredibly greasy.  He was slightly pale but yet, standing next to Snape, he was somewhat handsome.  His robes were black with silver knot work trim, and his cloak was extraordinary.  It was blood red and trimmed heavily around the collar with thick grey fur.  A heavy silver serpent served as a clasp.  He seated himself at the staff table next to Snape and began to examine the goblet and hollowware set before him, all the while nodding at what Snape was saying.

It was then that they noticed something even more interesting about the stranger than his long hair or lavish robes.  He held in his long, thin fingers, an odd type of staff.

"Oh my," Hermione was first to comment on it.  "I never thought I'd see it.  I mean, it's not suppose to exist anymore."

"What is?"  both Ron and Harry asked, though they were all staring at the staff, which had a stone fastened to the top that seemed to be putting off a soft blue glow.

"He's got the Mage's Staff of Orkney."

"Huh?" was Ron's response.

"What's a mage's staff?"  asked Harry.

"It's…well, it's like a wand," Hermione explained, "but much more powerful.  It doesn't require you to use words.  There's only been a few ever made in history."

"Sounds great," said Ron.  "Great for Charms class, I bet.  Where can I get one?"

"You wouldn't want one," Hermione stated quickly.  "They tend to kill most of those who try to use one.  That's why so many of those made have been destroyed.  That and the fact that once you successfully use a mage's staff, you're bound to it for life. They were seen as too much of a burden.  It was a mark of someone extremely powerful with magic up through the seventeenth century.   By the seventeen hundreds, there weren't many left and the idea of completely dedicating your life to magic became a little absurd—as a master of a mage's staff you can't get married.  The type of power that it creates in your body is just so strong that it would affect any children they had.  The child wouldn't be able to survive unless the staff was given immediately to them—even then, it might kill them.  Also, the only way to get one is to be apprenticed to a wizard who has one then pass it down. The only exception is to make one, which is impossible now because the Philosopher's Stone is needed.  One of the components in the crystal of the staff is the elixir of life."

"Sounds like a dull life," said Ron.

"So that staff, where did it come from?  How many are there?"

"There were seven made.  The only one left is supposedly in Gringotts, and that one was made in Russia.  The Staff of Orkney was made by Merlin up in the Orkney Isles."

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "Can you be anymore brainy?  How do you know all this?"

"From Muggle Studies," she said simply.  "In the muggle world, wizards are usually shown with a staff, not a wand and it's because of the traditional image of Merlin.  There was a side note about the staffs in our text."

Ron rolled his eyes.

"Wow, did you notice that professor?"  Neville Longbottom asked suddenly.

"No, Neville, we haven't," Ron said sarcastically.

"We were talking about his staff," Harry said more kindly.

Neville's eyes widened.  "Is that a real wizarding staff, Harry?"

"Hermione seems to think so."

"Oh," Neville whispered.  They all noticed that Neville had turned deathly pale.

"What's wrong?"  Hermione slowly asked.

Neville gulped.  "Wha-what's the chance of there being two, two wizards with wizarding staffs?"

The question took them all by surprise but they didn't have time to question for the sorting hat had completed its job for the year and Professor Dumbledore had stood up.

"The beginning," he said, "of another year."  His voice, Harry noticed, had slightly taken on the raspy tone of an old man. "May I begin by saying that I have great faith in all of you."  Dumbledore's eyes seemed to twinkle as he scanned the sea of young faces; it vanished, however, when his gaze fell upon Draco Malfoy and the Slytherin table.

"Last year was a very difficult year for many of us and I wish that I could say that this year is going to be easier, but I don't think it will.  Troubled times are dawning and will not go away quickly nor easily.  There were numerous murders over the summer, of both muggles and wizards.  Though the papers failed to say, these were in fact linked to Voldemort.  One paper, in particular, went so far as to blame a string of muggle murders on Sirius Black."  Harry saw that Dumbledore's eyes met his and he wished more than ever that he didn't spend his summer months so cut off and distant from the wizarding world. "Those allegations were false.  Others and I have been laboring hard these past two months on following Voldemort's trail. "It pains me to tell you this, but I must.  There may come a time in the future when you must make some important decisions.  It may even be a decision that involves going against authority.  There will not always be someone to guide you.  You must base your decisions upon what you have learned here and most importantly, what you feel is right.  Always seek the truth.  I may not always be here to give it to you."  Dumbledore paused, again surveying all of the students but this time with a more solemn expression.  He looked down, removed his spectacles and massaged the bridge of his crooked nose.  When he replaced his glasses, his face looked brighter.

"On a more positive note, Quidditch games will resume this year and we have a new professor, very skilled in Quidditch, I might add, who I will introduce to you shortly, that will be overseeing the duties of Madam Hooch until she returns in the Spring term."

Harry quickly exchanged glances with Fred and George.

"And that brings me to an introduction," Dumbledore continued.  "We have yet another Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor..."

The stranger's face broke into a slight smile at this.

"Your new Professor who has come all the way from Durmstrang—and it seems that he has brought the weather with him. Professor Salazar Snape will be your new…"

But Dumbledore was drowned out by an enormous applause from the Slytherin table.  Harry watched as Draco Malfoy banged his goblet on the table and then stood up.  The other Slytherins filed suit.


	2. Wyverns

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe. 

Summary: Hagrid gets some new pets…um, I'm not really sure I want to say more.  Oh, and Hermione has some witty comebacks for Malfoy.

Chapter II

Wyverns

"We've got O.W.L.S. this year."  Hermione was nearly sobbing.  "How are we to do well if we've got the Snape family taking over our classes?"

Harry ignored Hermione's complaint; he had something much more important on his mind.

"He's taking over Quidditch.  Dumbledore's put a Slytherin in charge of Quidditch," Fred croaked.

The thought was crunching.  With a name like Salazar Snape, it was quite obvious that the new professor would favour the Slytherins.  What this meant for the Quidditch matches…this was worse news for Harry than Voldemort.

"Two Snapes!" Ron moaned.  "How could there possibly be two gits like that on this planet—at this school?  What was Dumbledore thinking?  Maybe he is a bit loony."

Neville Longbottom looked as if he were about to faint.  Harry could only imagine how the idea of two Snape's was going to affect poor Neville.

All the Gryffindor students seemed to be conversing on the same topic.  No one was happy and things didn't look any brighter when they all received their course schedules the next morning.

"Double Potions in the morning and then Defense Against the Dark Arts in the afternoon of the same day!"  Harry exclaimed upon getting his.

"Looks like we won't ever be able to look forward to Fridays," said Ron dismally.

"At least we won't have to see either of them until the end of the week.  Only look," Hermione was going over her schedule as well, "Defense Against the Dark Arts is on Mondays too."

Neville made a small sniffing noise.  His schedule was crumpled in his hand. 

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked.

"Went to Professor McGonagall," Neville's voice had an uncharacteristic hint of anger to it.  "Tried to drop Defense Against the Dark Arts.  She wouldn't let me do it.  Said there was a seven year requirement."

"Well, you won't be suffering alone," Harry replied.  He noticed that Neville seemed to have changed a lot.  He looked taller, but it was about time, this being their fifth year.

After breakfast, they all went up to Professor Trelawney's tower for Divination and Harry and Ron were able to doze off for a pleasant nap until they were interrupted.  Professor Trelawney loomed above them, her thin face looking very displeased and her bangled arms crossed in front of her chest.  They were all too happy to leave her stuffy scented classroom and go outside for their next class, Care of Magical Creatures.  Harry was looking forward to seeing Hagrid.  He hoped that he would have a chance to talk since there was a two-hour break before Transfiguration in the afternoon.

As they walked down the humming green lawn, they came upon another group of students who were joining the class.  The Slytherins were all walking closely together in their usual pack, listening to the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

"No, Pansy, he's not Professor Snape's brother, they're cousins.  I should know.  He and my father are good friends.  He was over at our house not that long ago.  And wouldn't you like to know some of the spells he taught me."

"Like what?" Pansy Parkinson asked.

"He's well versed in the things not taught here, and he's just wicked at transfiguration," Malfoy explained.  "He's one of the few Animagi of the century, but he's the only wizard ever to be known to turn into a dragon beside Merlin. Well, not exactly a dragon—but close."

"Maybe he should teach transfiguration," someone suggested.

"No," Malfoy disagreed, "he used to teach at Durmstrang—and they teach the Dark Arts over there, not this defense crap.  He's going to be the best professor we've had yet."

"How come then," Pansy thought, "Why do you think Dumbledore had him come here then?"

Malfoy threw his hands into the air.  "Don't ask me.  Dumbledore's crazy."

"Sounds like Defense Against the Dark Arts is going to be a real joy," Ron said sarcastically.

"He assigned a lot of summer reading," Harry commented.  "I didn't finish it all."

"Neither did I," Ron confessed.

Hermione tutted.

"Oh, look who it is," a grating, drawling voice said from the Slytherin crowd.

"Hope this year's better for you, Potter.  Hope you don't get anyone else killed."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Ron barked.  Both Harry and Hermione instinctively grabbed a hold of him.

"Oh, yes.  It's Weasel the muggle-loving pauper.  My father's got a score to set with your family.  He wasn't very happy about the hex you used on me…"

"Is your father coming then?  Or how about your mother," Ron interrupted.  "Know you can't win against us so you've got to run to mommy and daddy."

"Why not go to my father?"  Malfoy took on a malevolent look that showed that he was evidently pleased with whatever he was about to say.  "At least my father doesn't have to hide behind Dumbledore's beard.  My father's a real wizard, not some muggle-loving nitwit.  Mine could beat yours in a duel any day—especially now." 

Hermione let out a laugh.  "I'd watch it, Malfoy.  Your father goes slithering around with a big snake, as I understand it, and do you know what snakes eat?  Rodents, Malfoy, and I'm sure they would find a little ferret like you an appetizing snack."

Malfoy looked as if he was attempting to sort out this statement, but gave up and hissed, "Watch it yourself, mudblood.  You'll be lucky to make it through the year."

"What's that supposed to mean?"  Ron said rabidly.  "Don't you dare threaten her, you slimy little…"

"Hey now!  This isn't the way to start the year."

It was Hagrid, and just in time.  Ron and Malfoy had to back down.  Hagrid set down a large crate that soon gained everyone's attention.  It was smoking and it sounded as if something was scratching around inside.

"Not more Blast-Ended Screwts!"  Dean Thomas exclaimed as a distinct small explosion was heard and smoke filtered out of the holes in the crate.

"Nope," replied Hagrid, "those are gone now.  What I've got here is something that I thought you all might like a bit more.  Had to look all over a number of dungeons for these."

"Wonderful," Malfoy drawled.  "How many poisonous spikes does this thing have?"

"You should know," Ron interjected.  "Sounds like he found him at your house."

"None," Hagrid replied simply.  "But they can burn you, so you haveta be careful.  I'll not have any of you touchin' 'em quite yet.  I'm still readin' up on 'em."

"So what's exactly in there?" Harry asked warily, getting ready to run as Hagrid began to unlock the door.

"They're wyverns."

Immediately, both Hermione and Malfoy stepped back.

"What Malfoy?  You really do have those at your in your basement?" Ron jeered as he too retreated.

"Shut up, Ron.  At least I have a basement."

Harry decided to retreat quite a distance.  He didn't want to be near anything that would be found lurking in the Malfoy dungeons.  "What's a wyvern?" he asked Hermione.

"They're a type of dragon," she explained.

"Dragons?  Hagrid…" Harry began.

Hagrid grinned as he stuck a gloved hand into the crate, something that Harry would not have personally done even with dragon hide gloves.  "It's a'right 'arry.  Oh!  Now it's a'right little feller.  No need to try an' defend yerself against me."

"Hagrid," Harry said warily, "are these—legal?"

"'Course they are.  Wyverns don't get very big.  These guys are already full grown.  No need to worry—Ouch!  Now there!" Hagrid finally managed to pull out one of the small leathery winged dragons but the sleeve to his arm was singed.  "At first you'll notice that wyverns are more snakelike than a dragon," Hagrid began.  "And ain't he a beauty."  He held up the blue wyvern for all to see. 

Other than it's color, the wyvern was anything but "a beauty."  It had the head of a dragon with antennae-like tendrils curling from its jaw and ears and its wings were dragon-like as well.  The rest of its long, thin body was more serpentine than dragon. It had legs, but they were tiny and only seemed to serve the purpose of making the creature able to scratch. Its most snake-like attribute, though, were the eyes.  They were definitely the eyes of a snake—but glowing red.  They reminded Harry all too well of something—someone, and he felt a prickly sensation run up his spine as he looked at them.

"Wyverns are mischievous creatures," Hagrid continued.  "They tend t' like cold dark places an' can be real pests in the lower floors of castles, dungeons, or even in basements.  If ye've ever been somewhere at night, say yer basement, and thought you saw a pair o' red eyes, it was prob'bly a wyvern.  They tend to even get into muggle houses sometimes by mistake, but they don't stay fer long 'cause they prefer feedin' off a lot of the items used in potions.  We used to have a real problem with 'em here until Professor Snape took the position of Potions Master.  They're mean pests that can make a mess if not taken care of.  But never, never try to take care of 'em yerself unless yuh know what yer doin.'"  The wyvern he was holding suddenly let out a small puff of blue flame that caught Hagrid's other sleeve on fire.  He rather swiftly put it back into the crate with the other wyverns while the Slytherins laughed. 

"The rest of class was spent reading what their textbook had to say on wyverns and ended early so that Hagrid could tend to his burns.  Harry, Hermione, and Ron followed him into his hut.

"Good t' see you all again," said Hagrid, opening a jar full of a strange colored cream.  "You want some jelly tarts?"  He motioned to a plate on the table with some blackened dollops of dough.

"Thank you, but we'll be going to lunch soon," Hermione swiftly declined the offer.

"So how was your summer?" Harry asked.  "Did you…" There was something that Harry had wanted to ask all summer since the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.  "Did you talk with the giants?  Are they going to help us?"

"Awe, now how would you know so much about that?  Dumbledore tell you?" Hagrid slowly began wrapping his left forearm with a bandage.  "Well, I suppose yer smart Harry.  Yes, Madam Maxime and I talked with many o'er the course o' the summer.  Unfortunately, we didn't make much progress."

"Are they going to be a threat?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"Well, I cant' say.  You see, Hermione, giants tend t' be solitary folk.  They ain't organized, so there's no way to speak t' all of 'em at once.  Maxime and I talked to all that we could, an' there were some that seemed fairly certain that they wouldn't want t' have nothin' ter do with—with Voldemort."  This was the first time that Harry had heard Hagrid use Voldemort's name.  It was probably Dumbledore's doing.  "We were even able to get a few to help us, but on the whole, I don't think that the giants will all be on our side.  Nor will they all be for him either.  Maxime an' I still have a lot l' work ter do."

They were all silent after Hagrid finished, then Harry asked, "Voldemort's here in England, right?  How much trouble is he going to cause elsewhere?  I just was wondering if Hogwarts is the only place we have to worry about him being right now."

Hagrid frowned.  "I wish that were true, but he's got followers elsewhere.  You ever hear of Grindelwald?"  They all nodded.  "Well, he caused havoc mainly in Germany and no one thought much of it, but wasn't long 'for he dragged the whole world into it.  And I'll tell you, Voldemort's got potential t' be lot worse than Grindelwald was—I heard this from Dumbledore.  But we'll haveta keep our eyes an' ears open outside England and Scotland.  The Ministry's already been real particular 'bout who they chose for the new Headmaster at Durmstrang, taking that school's reputation an' all."

"Speaking of Durmstrang," said Hermione suddenly, "What is with the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?  Why would Dumbledore choose someone from Durmstrang?"

"Or another Snape," Ron added.

"Well, I'm not the one to be questioning Albus Dumbledore," Hagrid began, "but I remember that greasy little git. Severus' shadow he was."

"I take it you didn't care much for him," Harry surmised.

"No. Dumbledore seemed to think there was somethin' in him, but there wasn't.  Proved it when he dropped out of school his fifth year to get tangled with You-Know—I mean Voldemort.  And I know he was involved.  Came back to our side with Severus, but he was so bad that the ministry wouldn't hear of lettin' him go, an' they threw him in Azkaban.  Took a month for Dumbledore to get him out.  When he finally did get out, though, he was bitter.  Refused to cooperate with the ministry.  He helped out his cousin, Severus, but his business was a bit shady.  I think Severus has covered up some o' the things he did.  I remember him in school.  Never did or said much.  Real quiet type, but when he did do something, it wasn't ord'nary, an' it warn't good.  S'pose the reason he's here now is 'cause Dumbledore and Severus were the only ones he thought he could turn to.  Karkaroff was the only one who would hire him outside o' Britain—'cept Crabhill and Funk in the States where I supposed they'd ne'er heard of him.  But he didn't keep that job long.  But b'lieve me, he warn't goin' t' hang 'round here.  Heard that the first thing the new Headmaster of Durmstrang did was fire that snake."

"Malfoy said something about him being named after Salazar, is that true?" Ron asked.

"Don't know, but Salazar's nickname throughout school was Draco and he was like this with the Malfoy family," and Hagrid crossed his fingers.  "Both he and Severus grew up with Lucius. If you ask me, though, if Lucius Malfoy named his son after Salazar, he couldn't have picked a better person.  Shame to teach students whom you know will be usin' the Dark Arts when they leave," he said, shaking his head.

"I have a question," Hermione said slowly.  "If he worked for Voldemort, then how come he's so young?  He looks no older than some of the seventh years."

This was true and both Harry and Ron looked at Hagrid for an answer.

"Well…" Hagrid thought.  "He's only two years younger than Severus.  I suppose it's powerful dark magic.  Don't know what else it could be."

None of this talk did anything brighten their spirits, so they all turned the subject to Hagrid's newest "pets."  It was only when he invited them to help put the wyverns into their new home, a cold cage built into the ground, that they decided to head back to the school for lunch.


	3. Professor LeSal

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

Summary: Professor LeSal gets his introduction.  Will he be as bad as Snape?  Or can appearances be deceiving?

Chapter III

Professor LeSal

Their workload piled higher and higher.  It seemed that their fifth year at Hogwarts was going to be a difficult one in which the monstrous O.W.L.S. at the end of the year would rule.  By Friday, they were in no mood to accept the pile of work that Professor Snape laid upon their shoulders in potions.  Even Hermione looked worried, something that the other Gryffindors in the class took as a sure sign to panic.

"You are still much too far behind," Snape snapped at them Friday morning.  "Let me tell you, the potions part of your exam is by far the most difficult.  You must take Potions seriously this year."  He paused then went on angrily, "Half of you seem to have not even bothered to do your summer work."  He seemed very frustrated as he flipped through the stack of papers he held.  "Potter!" he exclaimed.  "Only one page?"

Harry felt it was no use telling Snape about the Dursleys and just how difficult it was to complete homework, so he merely shrugged.

"I guarantee you, Potter.  I will fail you unless you drastically improve your attitude and overall performance in this class.  And if you fail potions, you _will be held back."_

Harry looked away but unfortunately caught sight of Malfoy sneering at him.

"And as for you, Mr. Malfoy," Snape suddenly said.  Malfoy's sneer quickly faded and he stared up front.  "I didn't even get a paper from you."

"Well…I…" Malfoy sputtered, then a light seemed to go in his head.  "You know that your cousin, LeSal, was a guest at my house over the summer.  He taught me a lot about Potions as well as other things."

Harry could only guess at what those "other things" might be.

Snape thought for a moment before saying, "I'd appreciate it, Mr. Malfoy, if you would call him Professor Snape at this school while you are a student and he a teacher."

"Yes, sir," Malfoy replied, apparently a little hurt.

Pansy Parkinson put her hand up in the air.  "Yes, Miss. Parkinson."  Snape glared at her apparently annoyed that he couldn't continue.

"He told us, our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor did, to call him Professor LeSal—so there wouldn't be a mix up between him and you."

"Oh, he did, did he?"  Snape turned away from the class but Harry got a glimpse of his expression before he did, and he appeared very disgusted and seemed to be muttering something under his breath.

Then from behind him, Harry heard a crash of glass.  He turned around to see that Neville had accidentally pushed his jar full of lacewings onto the floor.

"Longbottom!" Snape barked.  "What are you doing?  I want those cleaned up now!  Not a single one left loose, is that clear?  You're making a mess of the lab."  Neville scurried to catch them and Hermione turned a pencil into a net and handed it to him.  "Ten points from Gryffindor."  Snape added for good measure.

They thought that they'd never get out of Potions.  Poor Neville had his nerves completely frazzled and Harry, Hermione, and Ron were not too far behind.

"Woa, was he being a wicked warlock!" Harry commented.

"He was being more than that," and then Ron said some nasty things.

"And now we've got another Snape to survive in an hour," Harry said dismally.

They ate their lunch in near silence as they thought about the impending doom that assuredly awaited them in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Well, there's no use putting it off any longer,"  Hermione said late during lunch.  She had only taken a few bites of her cucumber and mayonnaise sandwich.  "I don't think it'll do us any good to be late."

Harry and Ron shot up out of their seats at this and headed toward the classrooms.  It seemed that the rest of the class had the same idea as them for the entire class was already sitting outside the door ten minutes before class was to begin.  They were speaking quietly about the catastrophe in the morning.  Someone even questioned the sanity of Dumbledore and McGonagall for hiring another Snape and even keeping the old one.

"Is it one o'clock already?"

Everyone froze.  The door to the classroom was open and Salazar Snape stood in the doorway.

"Well, if you're all so eager to begin, we will," and he disappeared into the room. 

With a groan, they all stood up and filed in.  Harry and Ron headed for the back seats but others had the same idea and beat them to it.  Neville had raced in and actually pushed aside someone to get a back corner desk.  After they had all found their seats, Harry, Hermione, and Ron unfortunately toward the front, the room became dead silent and they all just watched as their professor grabbed a stack of parchment and began handing them out.

"This is to test you on how well you did on your summer reading," Salazar said in a loud voice, very unlike the soft, menacing voice of their Potions Master, but intimidating all the same.  "I'll give you thirty minutes to complete it and your not to look at your books.  And you'll get a big fat goose egg if I catch you looking at your neighbor's paper."

All that could be heard was a low rustling as the students placed their papers and books beneath their seats.  Ron, after looking at his paper, screwed up his face and looked despairingly at Harry.

"I didn't do any of this," he whispered.

"Neither did I," Harry admitted.

They both looked somberly over at Hermione who was busy scribbling away.  They felt sick.

"I'll inform you that I'll be different from your other professors," Salazar began.  "As you probably have already heard, I've spent the last few years teaching at Durmstrang where the atmosphere is quite," he paused, "different.  You'll find the way I run my classroom a change from your other subjects.  I don't tolerate much, for you're here to learn, and you learn best in a quiet and orderly environment."  Salazar Snape stood back and stared at all the class.  He frowned at Ron who had quickly turned away from Hermione.  "One practice I've brought with me is the use of a sneakescope during testing.  If you don't know what a sneakescope is, you can learn during my first years' class."  He reached into his robes, which were simpler than the robes he had been wearing at the feast, yet still rather lavish, and pulled out a small sneakescope.  He placed it on his desk.  "I'll know if any one of you decide to not answer honestly."

"Damn," Ron spat under his breath.  "I already hate this guy."

Harry just sighed and stared down at the questions.  His mind went blank.  He now wished that he had completed the assigned work as did the rest of the class, excluding Hermione.

Ten stressful minutes passed in which Harry had managed in only answering two questions, when there was a piercing shriek.  The sneakescope was madly whirring and spinning.  Salazar had been seated at his desk, and he looked up sharply.  All the students bent down closer over their papers and if they weren't writing before, they certainly were now.

Salazar pushed his chair away, stood up, and with a hand firmly on his staff, he angrily floated between the desks.  He passed Harry like a cold storm cloud and from behind, there came the sound of smashing glass.

Harry didn't have to look.  He put his head in his hands.  "Neville," he moaned.  Slowly, he turned around.

Neville sat rigid in his seat while Professor Salazar stood over him reading the paper.  The professor wrinkled his brow.  "So you don't believe there are such things as dark unicorns?  And that griffins can only be found in Australia?" He promptly snatched the paper of a nearby student.  "Pass up your papers, everyone," he said after a second or two.  He didn't take his eyes off the papers as he headed toward the front, only he pointed his staff absentmindedly at the spilled ink and broken bottle.  The ink returned into a repaired well.

The class all passed their papers to Harry.  Hermione, however, was madly writing.  "But I'm not done!" she exclaimed as Harry tore the paper from her and put it at the bottom of the pile.

After collecting the pieces of parchment, Salazar put his staff  to the side and sat back against his desk to read them.  Harry noticed that the glowing blue stone had gone dull and black.

"Harry Potter."

Harry braced himself.

"Only two questions? Tisk, tisk."

"Déjà vu," Ron whispered into Harry's ear.

"My cousin told me to keep my eye on you.  Is it true that you're a bad student?"

Harry wanted to say something horrible, but he stopped himself.  Professor Salazar was smiling.  Not the malicious, lip curling smile of Severus Snape, but a genuine, warm grin.

"Do you play Quidditch, Potter?  You can answer that, I hope,"  and he leaned over and dumped the stack of papers off the side of his desk where a wastepaper basket appeared to catch them.

"Quidditch?" said Harry, now utterly confused.

"The game with brooms, bludgers, quaffles, and a snitch?" Salazar prodded.  "You _are James Potter's son, I take it?"_

"Uh—yah.  I am," Harry replied warily.

"And you play on Gryffindor House Quidditch team?"

"Yeah."

"Then I understand completely," Salazar stated while nodding.

Harry and Ron stared at one another.

"Is he trying to be friendly?"

"It's gotta be a trick," answered Ron.

The room was silent as Salazar seemed to be studying them all.  "You all look like death warmed over," he finally stated.  "How about if I take attendance," he said slowly.  "That won't be going to quickly for you, will it? I understand that you're all Gryffindors and I'll try and take that into consideration…" he paused and grinned at the gaping students.

"What is he doing?" Ron hissed.  "Is this a Snape?"

"Am I a Snape?  Is that what you just asked young man?" Salazar broke in.  "Are you Ron Weasley?  Severus told me all about you too."

Ron waited before replying, "Yah, I'm Ron Weasley."

"Well, Mr. Weasley.  Why would you ask such a question?"

"Ummm…" Ron looked to Harry then Hermione.  "Um, well you're…you're acting nothing like Professor Snape…Old Snape…I mean our Potions professor, Professor."

"I should hope not," Salazar stated.  "I may have the last name Snape, and Severus—your 'Old Snape,'" he smiled when he said this.  "He may be my cousin, but I don't think I am much like him.  And I am sorry if I frightened you all in the beginning like that, but as I said, I just came from Durmstrang and it's going to take me awhile to adjust to being back at Hogwarts.  It's very different here.  Very different.  Brighter.  But as for me being like Severus, yes, we're cousins, we grew up in the same house together, we experimented with potions on each other, and we were both Slytherins while in school.  Otherwise, we're very different.  I'm better dressed, didn't catch so many bludgers with my nose, and I have a slightly better sense of humor than a fence post.  I will warn you, however, that while it takes a lot to cross my temper, I have it on good authority that I am capable of becoming just as frightening as Severus, if not worse, when I'm angry.  So just keep that in mind if you plan on breaking any rules in my classroom or doing anything remotely similar to what I did while I was here.  Got that?  Good.  Now a word on my name."

Salazar jumped up onto his desk and sat cross-legged.  "You don't have to call me Professor Snape.  With my cousin teaching here, two Professor Snapes will get confusing very fast, and I _don't want to be confused with him.  I also don't want you calling me be my first name because…well, you could say it does not have the most pleasant connotation at this school.  That and one of the previous schools I taught at in the States, they had never hear the name Salazar before and actually found it extremely humorous.  So I prefer to be called LeSal, Professor LeSal."_

At first, the students didn't know what to think.  Surely he couldn't be related to Professor Snape: greasy, grouchy , old, smelly, bubbling potions Snape.  He just couldn't.

"Welcome back Hogwarts," LeSal said at last.  "Thought I'd never come back here, let alone have a class of Gryffindors at my complete mercy."  Then he laughed.  It wasn't an evil laugh, and it made the class finally relax, still, there was something about it that Harry didn't like.

"As for your summer reading," he said, turning on a serious tone.  "I didn't assign it.  I will say that I'm disappointed that none of you bothered to do it, for you've got O.W.L.S. this year. Sooo…I'll give you until the end of this month to complete it.  So you can still expect a test."

"Who assigned it? Our reading, if you didn't?" Ron ventured.

"Severus—Professor Snape, I mean.  I didn't even know that I've have this job until the beginning of the summer."

"He assigned too much," someone grumped.

"Yes, he did," Professor LeSal agreed, scanning over a notebook.  "Summer holiday is a holiday after all, a break from work.  No, I'd never assign that much."

"Why is he such a grouch?" Ron dared to ask.

LeSal grabbed his staff and studied it.  "He is a little grumpy sometimes, isn't he?"

"If that's not the understatement of the year," Ron laughed.

"Ah now, I didn't mean to start a free for all on Severus," LeSal said, still looking seriously, turning the staff in his fingers.  "I don't blame him for the way he is.  You're very lucky to have him, you know."  He glanced up and saw that the students didn't look too convinced.  "He, your 'Old Snape,' happens to be one of the best potion masters in the world.  Even Dumbledore gives him that respect.  You're very lucky indeed.  I've always taught potions before now, and I'll admit that I can't even shake a stick at the knowledge he possesses in that field."

The class fell silent and serious again.  "If I were you, I'd bite down and ignore any conniving little things he may say to insult your House, and try to learn all that you can."

This was a new one for them all.  Someone speaking highly of Snape.  Finally, Hermione took the initiative to change the subject.

"So you've never taught Defense Against the Dark Arts?" she inquired.

"Uhh—no," replied LeSal.

"But you're from Durmstrang!" a student pointed out.

LeSal laughed.  "What's that supposed to mean?  You don't seriously believe all those rumors about heavily studying the Dark Arts, do you?  I'll admit the students tend to be a bit more serious, but Durmstrang is a respectable school that wouldn't think about breaching such a rule of magic society."

"So they don't teach the Dark Arts?" Ron said incredulously.

"Of course not.  Not that some of the students haven't gotten in trouble for learning on their own—you've had that here at Hogwarts.  Every school has the occasional stray student."

Ron turned around.  "Slytherins," he coughed and then faced front.  Hermione slapped him on the shoulder.

"I heard that, Mr. Weasley," LeSal scolded.  Ron just grinned.

The Professor sighed and jumped down from his desk.  He paced up and down the front of the class a few times, then stopped and faced them.  Harry noticed that he was clutching his staff tightly.  "On an extremely serious note, the Dark Arts are not a laughing matter and this is going to be a very difficult and intense course for you this year."  He continually looked at the stone in his staff, which was back to glowing blue, and seemed to have a slight purple tinge just now.

"I will admit that I have never wished to teach this subject, however, Dumbledore thought it would be beneficial for you to learn from me."  Again he paused and stared at the stone.  When he resumed speaking, his eyes did not waver from it.  "This will be a difficult subject for me to teach to you, but I highly suggest you listen and try to take in all that I'm going to try and pass on to you.  You probably have heard many rumors about me and my involvement with the Dark Arts, and I will admit that some may be true—not all.  I have first hand experience with just how dangerous, how _hurtful, using dark magic can be."_

Harry suddenly felt very uneasy, and he squirmed in his seat.  By the sound of shifting bodies in their desks, he knew he wasn't alone.

LeSal sighed.  "I'm not as concerned about this class.  I will tell you that.  Warning Gryffindors about the evils of the Dark Arts is probably preaching to the choir.  You're the least of my worries this year, yet that won't excuse you from my lessons."

They all knew what class would be his main concern.

"Now, for the horrible news," he had looked away from the stone and back to the class.  "O.W.L.S. await you at the end of this year, and there will be heavy reviewing.  I'm sorry to say that few of your previous Defense professors haven't left me adequate notes to work by, so it's going to be even more difficult.  You're going to have to bear with me as we go through all the material that will be covered on your exam.  So I'm pleading for your cooperation now.  It'll be much easier for you and myself."

Harry wondered if he had given the same speech to the Slytherins, but didn't have time to contemplate it too much, for just then, it became time for class to let out and everyone scrambled for their things.

"Please sign this roll sheet on your way out," LeSal yelled over their heads.  "I'll try and learn your names on Monday.  And for homework, just read the first chapter you were assigned over the summer and come up with one question for me."

He stopped shouting, as it appeared no one was paying much attention anymore.  For they seemed all in a hurry to leave and there was good reason: Severus Snape had somehow entered the room and he appeared to be in an unusually dark mood.


	4. Gathering of the Pack

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

Summary: enter Sirius and Lupin!

Chapter IV

Gathering of the Pack

"Wow! Could you believe that?" Ron said excitedly.  "He wasn't bad at all."

"I don't know," Hermione thought out loud.  "There's something about him that just doesn't feel right."

Harry silently agreed.

"What?" exclaimed Ron.  "Sure, he's a Snape, and I hate that slime ball just as much as anybody, but his cousin is well—cool."

"But what about him being good friends with Lucius Malfoy?"  Hermione said grimly.

"Ah, Draco's all talk, you know that.  Old Snape's friends with that ghoul and poor LeSal, he probably gets blamed for stuff that those two do.  I think LeSal is just too nice to be all that Draco thinks he is."

Hermione looked like she was about to say something, but was abruptly cut off.  

"Hey there Ronnykins!" it was Fred and George.  "Hi Harry.  Say, when are we gonna start practice?"

"I don't know," Harry began.  "How about this afternoon?"  He was eager to begin.

"No, I'm busy," Fred replied with a grin.

"Wood's not here," they said somewhat dismally.  "So we're going to need a new captain."

"Yah, we're nominating you," informed George.

"Me?" Harry hadn't been expecting this.  "But you two have been here longer.  I'm only in my fifth year."

"Wood was captain in his fifth year," Fred pointed out.

This was true, and the position of captain was enticing.  "Well, there's other members on our team.  How about we meet first thing tomorrow morning and let the others decide.  And I'm nominating you, Fred," Harry added.

* * *

Saturday morning, Harry grabbed his Firebolt and headed out to the Quidditch field before anyone else awoke.  It seemed forever since he had flown last and he spent an hour flying around the Hogwarts ground.  The weather was cool and mist hung low along the fields.  Like some great monster afraid of the light, it crept slowly toward the Forbidden Forest as the sun rose.  Hagrid was already out, feeding some of his animals.  Harry waved but didn't land.  He was enjoying this time by himself and didn't want to disrupt it, even to speak to Hagrid.

"Harry!" two voices hailed him when the sun had climbed a little higher in the sky.  It was Fred and George.  He landed to greet them.  They had each come out with their brooms and behind them, Harry could see three girls approaching.

"Thought we'd get an early start on practice," said George.  "Merlin knows we'll need it, after a whole year off."

Harry nodded and surveyed the Gryffindor Quidditch team.  Yes, Wood was gone and they were now short their captain and keeper.  "Like you two said before, we're going to need to find a new keeper," he said quickly.

"And we're going to have to vote on a new captain," said one of the girls, Angelina Johnson.

This wasn't good.  They were short a player and a captain, but then the other house teams were in the same state as they were.

"We'll have to take care of that soon," Harry replied.  "But for today, we can just get back in the air for a while."

They all stood there for a moment until Fred said loudly, "All right then.  Let's get cracking!"

For a quarter of an hour, they all zig zagged over the Quidditch field before pulling out the bludgers, quaffle, and snitch.  Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet zoomed around with the quaffle while Angelina Johnson temporarily took the position of keeper.  Fred and George beat the bludgers around and Harry kept chasing after the snitch.  The first time he closed his fingers around the small, golden, winged ball, it gave him a surge of joy.  Harry was not truly back at Hogwarts until he had caught a fluttering snitch.

It wasn't until lunchtime that they all came back down to the ground.  When they did, someone was waiting for them.

"Professor Dumbledore said you would be here," said Professor McGonagall.  "Thank goodness you started practicing.  Professor Snape was so very kind to inform me that the Slytherin team has already met this year and to remind me that his cousin will be refereeing the games."

"I don't see how Dumbledore could do that!" Fred blurted out.  "He's obviously going to favor the Slytherins."

"And that'll be something you'll have to take into consideration when preparing for games," McGonagall replied unhappily.  "However, the Slytherin team captain is Draco Malfoy, and I believe that to be a good thing."

"How?" all of them said at once completely upset by the prospect.

Harry thought about it.  "Malfoy isn't a good player," he reminded.  "He won't be half as confident as Flint was.  He'll want to rely a lot on cheating and will think he can get away with it with Professor LeSal making the calls, but after LeSal's class, I don't think he'll stand for much."

"I wouldn't get your hopes up, Mr. Potter," said McGonagall grimly.  "I usually never comment to students on fellow staff members, but for the good of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, I'll let my opinion slip.  I began teaching when he was a student here and he played for four years on the Slytherin House team.  And let us just say that he wasn't above playing dirty.  He was one of the meanest players.  Just plain nasty."

They were taken aback by McGonagall's attitude.  They'd never seen her talk this way about any professor, though she had on occasion hinted that she wasn't too fond of Snape, and she had had a thing or two to say about Professor Lockheart.  They were all just staring at her.

"Now don't any of you say anything," McGonagall said quickly.  "I just wanted to give my House team some advice.  I gave it to you in confidence, so don't embarrass me.  So who is the team captain now?"

They all looked dumbly at each other.  Harry was about to say they were going to vote on it later when Fred and George blurted out, "Potter is."

By the look of surprise on Harry's face, McGonagall read that this was an impromptu decision.  She looked over at the other team members.  They all nodded in agreement.

"Harry?" McGonagall said questioningly.

Harry scanned his teammates.

"Duh, who else Potter?" George said loudly.

"Definitely not Fred or George," Alicia said grinning.  Both Fred and George frowned.

Harry turned back to McGonagall and shrugged.  "I guess it's me."

"Good.  Now you'll have to check with Professor Salazar about reserving the field for practice times, and most importantly, we need a new keeper.  Normally I 'd ask Madam Hooch, but since she's not here to give me suggestions from the second years in her Quidditch classes, I don't know.  I wouldn't dare trust Professor Salazar to choose a member of our team for us.  You'll have to go searching on your own.  Now why don't you all go have lunch?  Harry, you're to come with me.  Dumbledore needs to speak with you."

Slightly bewildered, Harry left his teammates and followed Professor McGonagall into the castle.  Upon reaching the top of the staircase, he immediately recognized one of the voices coming from Dumbledore's office.  He hurried up the last few steps and flew to the door.  McGonagall barely managed to grab his shoulder to keep him from entering and when he saw all that was going on, he was glad she had stopped him.  He hid himself around the corner as McGonagall stepped in, but she had to wait to say anything.

On one side of Dumbledore's office stood Sirius Black, whose voice it was Harry had heard.  He was clean shaven, his hair was under control and was wearing a ragged, but clean pair of robes that looked awfully like the belonged to the man standing next to him, Remus Lupin.  He hadn't changed since Harry saw him last at the end of his third year.  Though he was standing near Sirius, he was leaving some distance, the reason being quite obvious.  

Professor Snape was on the other side of the room; wand out and looking daggers back at Sirius.  Professor LeSal was at his side but was leaving about the same distance between him and his cousin as Lupin was of Sirius.  If curses began to fly, neither LeSal nor Lupin looked the least bit interested in getting in the way.  Dumbledore was standing between with his arms crossed.  A very brave place to be, in Harry's opinion.

"I have no real decision in this matter, Snape!" exclaimed Black.

"He's right, Severus," LeSal began but he was cut off.

"No, Salazar, you won't," Snape said firmly.  "Black's been locked up too long to know what's going on."

"He knows more than I do," Lupin said.

"You stay out of this, Lupin," Snape snarled.

"Severus, please," LeSal tried again.  "We really have no choice…"

"You will not," Snape said lowly in such a cold voice as Harry never though possible.

"Don't you say what I can and cannot do," LeSal argued in a tone rivaling Severus'.

"Something needs to be done about Fudge," Sirius broke in.  "It's obvious that he's…"

"But you're not going to have Salazar do that.  And since when did you take this over?  You messed things up enough that you have to be in hiding now.  Just shut up and hide."

"Watch it, Snape," Sirius said in a low growl.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Snape returned.  "Don't you dare threaten me.  No one threatens me."

"Severus, stop it."  LeSal stepped in front of his cousin, a position that Harry definitely would not do.

"Salazar, you're to stay out of this.  You don't know what's at stake," and Snape pushed LeSal aside.

Harry wondered when Dumbledore was going to step forward and stop them before one of them got blasted away.

LeSal's face became livid.  "_I don't know what's at stake?  If anyone here doesn't know what's at stake, it's you.  I've been in Azkaban, so has Black.  I know what I'm up against.  This is my decision and I'm not fifteen years old anymore.  I can make my own decisions.  Don't you dare treat me as a little brother."_

"I'm giving you advice, Salazar," Snape's jaw twitched.  "I'm surprised that you'd take Black's advice over mine."

"It's not like yours ever did me any good," LeSal shot back chillingly.

For a brief moment, Harry could have sworn that a hurt look crossed Snape's face.

"Perhaps I ought to start listening to Sirius," LeSal said in a whisper.

Snape's face again became angry.  "You watch what you say."

"Or what?" LeSal said defiantly.  "I've learned a hell of a lot since the last time we fought.  I dare you to try.  But I'd be careful, your daddy's not here to fix your nose."

Snape's fingers curled tighter around his wand.  It was then that Harry noticed LeSal's staff.  Professor LeSal was gripping the shiny, black, twisted wood so tightly that his knuckles were white.  The stone, gripped in the carved talons, was no longer blue, but green, and it was slowly growing in brightness.

"LeSal," Dumbledore said softly.  He looked up at the glowing green stone then at LeSal and shook his head.

This made LeSal back down.  He stepped back and stared at the floor while everyone in the room looked at this staff.

"Our disagreements are only victories for Voldemort," said Dumbledore sadly.  "Before we talk on this again, I want all four of you to put the past behind you and find a common ground.  If you don't, we will not have a strong enough force to contend with what lays ahead."

"Ah, Minerva," he said, finally turning to McGonagall.  "Did you bring Harry?  Yes, Harry, come in."

Harry cautiously stepped into the room.  Snape gave him a disdainful look and stormed from the room.  LeSal turned to go, the stone in his staff back to blue, but he said to Dumbledore, "I'm sorry, Headmaster.  I suppose I still haven't go control…"

"Salazar, why don't you go prepare a room for Remus and Sirius.  I thought the best place to hide them would be in yours and Severus' apartment since it's rather removed from the rest of the staff quarters.  And I'll inform the house elves not to bother you this year."  Harry noticed that Dumbledore's tone was very different from what he was used to.  Whatever LeSal had done, it had made him angry.

Professor LeSal seemed to sense this and he left the room submissively silent.  Sirius and Lupin threw Dumbledore a look of concern.

"He's trying.  We must give LeSal time."  Dumbledore's voice had that wizened, fatherly tone again.  "His hearts in the right place but he's having to battle his training.  He didn't learn magic like you or I, and having to unlearn something is far more difficult than having to learn.  He just needs a little guidance and reminding now and then."

"Snape isn't helping any," Lupin commented.

"He is.  They argue because they're cousins—more like brothers.  Brothers have their squabbles."

"But an argument between those two isn't exactly a childish quibble," Sirius pointed out.

"That is true," Dumbledore agreed.  "Now I'll go see about helping them.  I thought you'd be safest staying with them, and it'll give you a chance to learn to work together."  Dumbledore had to suddenly turn away after he said this.  Harry thought if he could see his face, he'd be chuckling.  "Sorry you had to hear all that, Harry, now have a nice lunch with your Godfather," and with a flick of his wand, a table full of food suddenly appeared.  "And Harry, I'm giving you special permission to visit Sirius.  It'll better for you to go to him I think."

After Dumbledore left, Harry immediately ran up to his Godfather.  Sirius embraced him and Harry noticed how thin he still was.

"So you're going to be staying here?"  Harry said excitedly.  "And you too, Professor—uh, Mr. Lupin."  

Lupin gave a warm smile.  "And it's good to see you again, Harry."  He still looked tired.  "That food looks good and I'm a bit hungry."

Harry and Sirius followed Lupin over to the table.  The dishes were the same as used in the Great Hall and Harry wondered how Dumbledore had made a whole table of food suddenly appear from the kitchens.

"How was your summer?" Sirius asked after they began to dig in.

"Nothing new.  The Dursley's still hate me but for the most part they let me alone as long as I don't bother them or look suspicious in front of the neighbors.  I got to spend the last few weeks over my friend's, Ron Weasley."

"The Weasleys are a good family.  You choose your friends well, Harry."

Harry looked over at Lupin, who was helping himself to a second serving of potatoes.  "It's a shame you're not teaching.  You're still the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor we've had."

Lupin smiled.  "I wish I could come back and teach, but I've got more important things to do right now."

"What is Dumbledore having you two do?" Harry asked.

Sirius and Lupin looked across the table at one another.  Sirius cleared his throat.  "Not many people will admit that Voldemort's back.  Remus and I, for the most part, have been laying low.  That Fudge seems to make the Ministry think I'm more of a threat than Voldemort right now.  We're keeping an eye on his followers.  Old and new."

"Snape used to be a spy."  Harry had decided to ask something that had been on his mind all summer, "Is he working as one again?  Has he had to go back to Voldemort?"

"Where'd you hear about that?" Lupin asked.

"From Dumbledore," Harry replied, which was only part of the truth.

"Uh…" Sirius had to clear his throat again.  "Snape is returning.  Both he and Salazar will be working undercover for us as they did before."

"But Voldemort may kill him," Harry suddenly felt concerned.  Concerned about Snape!

"They've already gone back to him.  Over the summer.  They knew it was a possibility so they went back together."

"I remember, though."  It was a painful memory for Harry but he had to bring up that night right now.  "When Voldemort…Last Spring, during the Tri Wizard Tournament.  When he called the Death Eaters, there were two missing.  I'm guessing they were Karkaroff and Snape.  Voldemort called one a coward and said that was going to make him pay.  The other one he said was gone from him forever—and that he would kill him."

For a moment, Sirius and Lupin stared at one another.  "Harry," Sirius said quietly, "some Death Eaters killed Karkaroff over the summer.  Have you told this detail to Dumbledore?"

"I don't remember," Harry replied truthfully.

"Snape deserves to know this," said Lupin.

Sirius nodded in agreement.  "We may not have the inside information after all."  He looked solemnly at Harry.  "Karkaroff was most likely the one whom he intended to kill.  What did he say he was going to do to the other?"

"Just 'make him pay,'" answered Harry.

"That doesn't sound good.  Snape may need to pull out."

"But nothing was said about Salazar.  And well, Salazar I believe has some, umhm, power in Voldemort's little circle…" Lupin began.  "He may have been able to save Snape from some of that 'punishment.'"

"It'll have to be their call," Sirius said quickly.  "It's their necks."

"Was Salazar a Death Eater?" Harry asked.

Sirius and Lupin exchanged looks.

"Not exactly," Lupin said slowly.

"Harry, Salazar Snape…" Sirius seemed to be fumbling for what to say.  "I don't know for sure, but there are many that say that he was an apprentice to Voldemort."

"Him having the Staff of Orkney seems to surely make it look that way," Lupin added.

"And he left school after his fifth year.  There's no other incident of Voldemort accepting an underage wizard into his circle."

"There's also the way Fudge acts around him."

"Fudge was instrumental in the decision to throw him into Azkaban when he brought himself to the ministry," Sirius said sharply.  "Fudge tends to like making rash judgments and then throwing people to the Dementors."

No one bothered to comment on this.

Harry felt uncomfortable with the gloom that had settle from this.  "So you're staying here at Hogwarts?" he said, attempting to brighten the conversation.

"Yes, I am." Sirius actually smiled.

"Dumbledore said I could come and see you?"

"Just go step through the mirror in the front hall," Lupin explained.  "And try not to let too many professors see you."

Author's Note: *She whispers*  "It's Alice Through the Looking Glass."  No, I'm not that nuts.


	5. Nevilles Plight

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

Summary:  All right ya'll.  If you remember, Dumbledore just said that Sirius, Lupin, and the Snapes were going to have to live in the same quarters.  Ha ha! I'm so cruel.  I'm surprised they don't gang up on me and leave me in the gutter for dead after this one.

Chapter V

Neville's Plight

Harry couldn't help but feel slightly proud of being the new captain for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.  However, it was not all rewards.  He suddenly found himself with a new load of responsibility.  Coupled with the O.W.L.S. exams in the spring, the year looked like it would be a very difficult one.

The first problem he encountered was finding a new player to take Wood's place before the next game.  So that evening after practice, he made a poster and hung it in the Gryffindor common room asking for anyone who wished to try out, to come to the field on Saturday.  Naturally, it caused a great stir and many interrupted Harry while he attempted to finish his homework.

"You've never really seen me fly, have you Harry?" Ron broke out on Thursday evening.  "I'm going to try.  D'you think I should?"

Harry looked up from a textbook on ancient runes.  Ron had been asking him the same questions all week.  "If you want to try, go ahead," Harry replied, pushing the boring book away from him with a yawn.  "I'm going to go out on the field on Saturday and see who plays Quidditch best as a keeper.  That's what we need right now, and when I saw you playing back in the field behind your house, you seemed to be better as a beater.  You may want to wait and try out for a beater position next year."

"But do you think I should try anyway?"

Hermione let out an irritable sigh.  She was tired of hearing the same thing over again as well.  "Oh, Ron.  For Pete's sake!  Just go and try on Saturday."

"But I don't know.  I don't have a good broom.  What if I make a fool of myself?"

"You won't make a fool of yourself.  And if you do, at least you can say that you tried and we can all stop hearing about it."  Hermione stood her book up on end to discourage any more conversation.

Ron frowned and looked down at his own books.

"Hermione…"

Hermione slammed the book down.  "What? I've been trying to study!" she exclaimed but quickly became red in the face when she realized that the meek voice had not been Ron trying to be silly.  "Oh, Neville.  I'm so sorry.  It's just these two have been bothering me all evening."

"Well, I'll ask you another time…"

"Oh no.  Go ahead.  Tell me what you need."

Neville paused and stared down at some books that he carried.  "Well…" he started.  "I…um…I need help doing some research."

Hermione smiled.  "For what class?"

It seemed to Harry and Ron that Neville was slightly shaking.

"It's not for a class," he replied.  "I need to know about one of the professors," and he set the books he carried down on the table.

 "What professor?" asked Hermione as she flipped through the various books on history and one on mages' staffs.

"P…P…Professor LeSal.  Salazar Snape."

Both Ron and Harry gawked at him.

"What for?"  Harry wanted to know.  "He's not that bad.  He's nothing like Old Snape."

"Yeah, he's pretty cool," Ron added.  "What d'you need to know about him?"

Neville suddenly looked pale like he did the first day of school.  "It's his staff," he said firmly.

"What about it?" Ron demanded to know.

Neville grabbed the book on the staffs.  "It says, and Hermione said, that there's not many wizards left who use a mage's staff."

"Soooo," said Ron when Neville paused.

Neville threw the book down, "Well, I heard that You-Know—that Voldemort had a close follower who used one…and that he…and he…" He sat down into the chair next to Hermione.  "I never told you, but my…my mum and dad were…were put in St. Mungo's by some…some of his followers."

Harry was shocked to finally hear this from Neville, and Hermione and Ron just stared.

"So you're connecting LeSal having a staff with a follower of Voldemort?"  Harry said after a long moment of uncomfortable silence.

Neville bit his lip and slammed his fist down on the table as he nodded. 

Never had they seen him in such a mood and Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for him.  He wanted to tell Neville that his parents had been tortured after Voldemort's downfall, after the Snapes had already been working for the Ministry but that would let on that he had found out about the truth of Neville's parents.  That he knew that they were in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, completely insane from torture, and he didn't wish Neville to know how much he already had found out.

"Surely not Professor LeSal," Ron finally said.  "Now perhaps Old Snape…"

Harry found an opening.  "No," he broke in.  Then he stopped himself.  He thought back to the discussion Dumbledore had had with Snape at the end of last year and about what he had heard over the weekend.  Letting out the truth about the Snapes could cause it to fall upon the wrong ears.  "I don't think LeSal could do a thing like that.  Besides, Dumbledore trusts him."

"He trusts him because Snape does," Hermione pointed out.  "And how good of a judge on someone's character do you think Snape is?  Plus, he's been hiding over at Durmstrang all these years.  And what Hagrid told us…" They all exchanged glances before Hermione said, "Alright, Neville, I'll help you.  I'm sure we can dig up something on his past.  Especially if he's an animagi as Malfoy said.  I believe I ran across something on a dragon when I was researching about Rita Skeeter."

"I'd like to help too," Harry found himself saying.  The things that Hermione pointed out were beginning to make him doubt his initial feelings.  "I'd like to find out."

* * *

The following day after classes, Hermione and Ron went to the library to help Neville while Harry decided to visit Sirius and Lupin.  He had been eager to see Sirius ever since he saw him briefly in Dumbledore's office.  It was also his feeling that he would be able to settle the question about LeSal.

He felt somewhat jittery upon stepping through the mirror in the front hall that led into the staff's quarters.  For a long time he just stared at the mirror.  Stared at his own reflection, but finally gathered his courage and lifting one leg up over the bottom of the frame, stuck it into the mirror.  It felt like dipping his leg into water only the other side was not wet.  He plunged all the way through.

Even though he had permission to be there, he felt as if he were breaking into someplace where he shouldn't be.  However, he soon stopped worrying and looked around in awe.  It was as if he had just walked through the great doors at the entrance of Hogwarts.  The Great Hall was ahead, there were stairs to his left and right with suits of armor standing guard.  The staff quarters were the mirror image of the school.

So far, he didn't see anyone and he decided to find the Snapes' apartment as quickly as possible before he ran into anyone.  Then he realized he didn't know where it was.  Perhaps, since Professor Snape was head of Slytherin House, his apartment would be close to where the Slytherin Common Room and dorms were.  He shuddered at the thought and started to walk slowly toward the Great Hall.

It was decorated like a common room with sitting chairs around the fireplace and tables where papers and books were strewn out.  Professor Binns was taking a quill madly to some student papers, dipping it every-so-often in red ink.  He was too busy to take notice of Harry, but then someone did spy him.

"Harry?" came Trelawney's voice from one of the armchairs at the fireside.  Harry stopped and cringed.  "Oh, yes.  I remember now.  The headmaster told me that you might be seen here.  I am dearly sorry about your cousin," Trelawney said in her deep, wispy voice.  "Of course, I saw it coming, but after all that happened last year, I didn't want to upset you further, dear."

"My cousin?" Harry said, puzzled.

"Yes my dear, that is why you are here, is it not?  Dumbledore said that with your troubles with your family at home, especially your ill cousin, that you seek the support of some of us."

"Oh," said Harry, catching on.  "Right."  He looked down at the floor and stuck his hands into the pockets of his robes.  "I do appreciate the staff here for trying to help."

"Ah, it is nothing.  Now who is it you wish to see?  Hmm?"

"Uh…" Harry wanted to laugh at whom he had to name.  "The Snapes, Professor."

Trelawney raised an eyebrow.  "Are you sure, Potter?  Perhaps I can help you instead.  Severus is hardly the most understanding…"

"I actually wish to see LeSal," interrupted Harry.

"Oh, yes, well, he's somewhat better, but… frankly, I don't…"

"It's a guy thing," Harry said quickly.  This, as he supposed it would, cut Trelawney short.

Trelawney's face fell and she said blandly.  "Then perhaps you do need to see him.  But I can't help you.  I don't know what dark bat cave Severus hangs around in.  I know they're somewhere _downstairs, but as if I ever set foot down there.  Not a good place for the flow of positive…"_

"For Heaven's sake!" Professor Sinistra had been sitting over by the fire as well and she had gotten out of her chair.  "I know where they live.  I'll take the boy."  She seemed slightly irritated with Trelawney.

"Are you sure?" Trelawney began.

"Yes, I'm sure," Sinistra snapped.

"Are you certain, Harry?" Trelawney continued, "Perhaps you can speak with Professor Flitwick…"

"No thank you," Harry assured.  "I do need to speak with Professor LeSal, but thanks anyway," and he suddenly found himself being pulled along by Professor Sinistra.

"So who told you that you could come into the staff's quarters?" Sinistra demanded to know after they had left Trelawney far behind.  They were heading down a flight of stairs exactly like the ones that he and Ron had gone down following Draco Malfoy three years earlier while under the disguise of Polyjuice.  Harry wished to ask how it could be that there could be an exact copy of the school within itself but Professor Sinistra did not seem very open to conversation.

She was tall and thin, and she wore her dark hair straight, down the middle of her back.  Harry didn't know much about Professor Sinistra other than no one ever spoke ill of her—yet he had never heard anyone say anything _good either.  He soon found it suspicious that she knew the way down to the Slytherin dungeon so well._

After they had made their way down several dark, dimly torch lit corridors, Professor Sinistra stopped at an old wooden door.  She lifted the silver knocker several times and waited.

There was a rustling sound and after a moment.  Professor LeSal's voice yelled through the door.  "Who is it?"  He sounded unusually grouchy.  He seemed to be cursing and scolding someone or something.

"It's me, Florence," Sinistra replied.

The door opened a crack.  "Scuse me, but you'll haveta wait a minute.  Pixy problem.  Can't have them getting out now," and he slammed the door shut.  There was soon a great deal of thumping.

"You've got that right," Harry heard Sinistra say under her breath.

Harry was reminded of Professor Lockheart, but it was only a minute or two before the curses in the room ended and the door opened again.

A very disheveled LeSal stood in the doorway, his hair down and wild about his face.  He was wearing large baggy trousers with a sash and a full-sleeved shirt that seemed to Harry to have a distinct Russian flavor. "Sorry 'bout that.  Got them for my second year students.  Terrible little creatures.  What can I do for you Florence?  If you've come to see Severus, he's not here right now."

"I'm not here to speak with Severus," she sounded rather offended.  "There's a student that I found wandering around the staff quarters looking for you."

"A student?" LeSal said in bewilderment.  "What in the name of Merlin's beard would a student want to see me here…" He opened the door slightly wider and spotted Harry.  "Oh!  Harry—yes, sorry.  Why don't you come in?"

"LeSal," Sinistra demanded to know, "what's the meaning of this?  Students aren't allowed…"

"He is," LeSal interrupted.  "Special permission from the headmaster."

"Dumbledore's allowing this?" said Sinistra in disbelief.

"Yup," replied LeSal simply, and then he yawned.  It was obvious that he had been napping before the pixie incident.  His clothes were wrinkled and he had a sleepy tear hanging in the corner of an eye.  "Thank you very much for bringing him," he added before ushering Harry in and closing the door on Sinistra.

"You shouldn't have come down here like this," Professor LeSal immediately scolded.

"I thought it would be all right," Harry began.

LeSal frowned.  "Next time, come to me and I'll take you down here."  He kicked aside some papers as he made his way across the room.

The front room they were in was interesting enough.  One side was a complete disaster.  There were books and parchment littered everywhere.  Several large stacks of papers had toppled over and appeared to be oozing toward the other side of the room that was by far neater.  The shelves were orderly; the books were even in alphabetical order.  Then there were jars.  Jars filled with hideous things like Harry had seen only unpleasantly before in Old Snape's office.  The jars were on both sides of the room, only there were fewer on the messy side.  One was tipped over and the lid had fallen off.  Harry hoped that it was supposed to be empty.  Nearby was a desk buried beneath what looked to be a recent assignment that Harry's class in Defense Against the Dark Arts had just completed.  On the wall, there was a poster that Harry had to smile at. It was of the Bulgarian Quidditch Team.  He inspected it closer and realized that it was signed by all of the players.

"Most of the team are former students of mine," LeSal pointed out, seeing what Harry was staring at.  "They went to the World Cup last year."

"I know," Harry said, excited to be speaking about Quidditch to a professor.  "I got to go."

"Really? I wish I could have gone, but…" LeSal's voice faltered before he said, "Did you get to see Krum?  You're a seeker, right?  How about his Wronsky Feint?"

"I got to see it.  It was spectacular!  I've been waiting over a year to try…" Harry stopped, for he remembered that Professor LeSal would be refereeing the game and no matter how friendly he seemed right now, he undoubtedly favored the Slytherins.

LeSal had begun to search through the mess for something and Harry wondered whether he had heard or not until he said over his shoulder, "It's all right, Harry.  I won't tell Draco, if that's what you're worried about."

Harry sighed with relief, then he ventured to say, "A lot of us have been worried about the games this year."

"Why is that?" LeSal asked as he leaned over a box full of magazines.

"Well…" Harry tried to decide upon the best way to say it.  He had to wait, though, for LeSal suddenly jumped up and ran out of the room.  He came back carrying his staff.  He pointed it at the box, there was a flash of blue light, and he reached over and plucked a limp pixie from the box.  Carefully, he placed it in an aquarium where other pixies rushed to its side.  It shortly got up and began making angry gestures through the glass.

"Well, that's what you get when you get into my _Quidditch Quarterlies," said LeSal firmly before leaning back over the box and pulling out a magazine.  He flipped through it then bent back the cover.  "Here you go, Harry.  I thought you might like to see this."_

Harry looked down at the article and read: "Spotlight:  Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Does Potter Have Potential?  Gryffindor House seeker, James Potter reviewed for place on the National Team, England."

"Wow," Harry said softly.  "Where'd you get this?"

"I've been collecting copies of Quidditch Quarterly for years," LeSal explained.  "You can keep that one if you want."

"Can I?" Harry asked in disbelief.  He stared at a picture of a young man in red Quidditch robes attempting to smooth out untidy hair.

"Sure," LeSal replied offhandedly.  He waited until Harry had finished reading the article before adding, "Severus keeps threatening to destroy that copy anyway, so it's yours to keep."

"Because of this?" asked Harry, looking up.

"Not just that."  LeSal reached over and turned a page.  "Because of this as well."

Harry read:  "Slytherins Sunk Once Again: Foul Play leads to Forfeit."

"Oh," said Harry, "I can see…"

"Read on," LeSal prompted.

"The Slytherin team was forced to forfeit to the Gryffindors in the final match after the disgraceful behavior of the Slytherin beaters that led to the injury of two players. 'Draco just suddenly turned into a dragon,' said Lily Evans, friend to one of the injured players about one of the Slytherin beaters.  'Then he viciously attacked James just as he was about to catch the snitch.'"

Harry looked up at LeSal who was busy studying his staff.  Harry continued: "After Mr. Salazar 'Draco' Snape, (the Slytherin beater), transfigured into a wyvern and attacked the Gryffindor seeker, the other beater, (allegedly his cousin, Severus Snape), took the opportunity to violently direct a bludger at another player's head. 'These two have been playing dirty long enough,' said Minerva McGonagall, assistant headmistress at Hogwarts. 'And they will be properly dealt with.'  She also informed us that the boy who turned himself into a wyvern has done so once before and was threatened with expulsion if he did so again.  Both Gryffindor players were treated for their injuries and are swiftly recovering."

Harry couldn't believe what he just read.  LeSal attacked his father?  _Professor Snape played Quidditch?  He had to read it again._

"So perhaps that's why you've worried about Quidditch this year?" LeSal prompted.

"Huh?" said Harry.

"You said that a lot of the students are worried about the games.  It's because of me, right?"

Harry looked a little sheepish.  "Well, you did play on the Slytherin team—and your name.  I have to tell you that a name like Salazar Snape makes the other house teams nervous."

"I suppose it would," LeSal agreed, leaning comfortably against his desk with his arms crossed.  "But, Harry.  People change.  I've had a lot happen to me.  I'm not that person anymore," and he pointed to the magazine Harry held.  "And as for my name.  I had absolutely no decision in that matter."

They stared at each other for a while before Harry commented, "You could change it."

"Ah, that I could," LeSal nodded.  "But then again, sometimes it's good to keep things around that remind us of our past so that we don't repeat our mistakes."  He suddenly looked away from Harry over to the doorway.  "Sirius!  Just in time.  Mr. Potter's come to visit you."

Harry whirled around to see Sirius looking carefully around.

"Is Severus around?"

"Severus?  No," LeSal replied cheerfully.  "He's off playing with his little potions kit right now.  You're safe."

Sirius frowned deeply.  "I needed to talk with him."

LeSal put a hand to his head.  "Would you mind waiting?  I'm enjoying the relative peace and quiet this afternoon.  Don't go and ruin it, I'm still suffering from a headache."

Sirius did not look amused.  "It's about Remus."

"Oh," LeSal suddenly looked more serious.  "He needs his potion?"

Sirius nodded.

"Right then.  That might be what Severus is doing.  I'll go check.  If he's not and can't be interrupted, I can make it."

"Are you certain?" Sirius sounded skeptical.

LeSal stood up straight and gripped his staff.  He said, sounding offended, "If I said I can, I can."

"It's a dangerous potion to make…"

"I've made it.  I lived in Canada and the States where they've got problems with werewolves more than we do here."  He then lightened up a bit.  "As much as I like Remus," and he didn't say it too convincingly, "after all this is over, he should try teaching at Nadenboush or St. Cuthbert's.  They're much more _accepting over there of his type."_

"I'll tell him," Sirius said blandly as LeSal finally left.

Right as he left, Harry suddenly realized who LeSal had reminded him of.  As he stood that moment by Sirius with his hair down, Harry thought back to the picture that he had of his parents' wedding that showed Sirius, a much younger Sirius.

"Let me tell you, Harry.  These living quarters have become more and more cramped lately…" Sirius stopped himself and looked down at Harry.  "Well, anyway, it's good to see you."

Harry smiled and looked around.  "How is living with the Snapes?"

Sirius glowered.  "That's not funny.  I know part of the reason Dumbledore is making us stay in this bat cave is just so we'll learn to work together better, but I think it's making things worse."

"I'd think I'd rather room with a dragon or a huge spider than Professor Snape, but LeSal doesn't seem so bad," Harry commented.

"It's Salazar I'm worried about," and Sirius looked over at a birdcage on Professor Snape's side of the room where a black bird sat, and he led Harry out of the room and down a hall to the back room of the apartment. "Harry, I don't trust him.  For right now, I'd like you to stay away from him as much as possible."

"What?" Harry was completely taken aback by this.  "But he's my professor—hired by Dumbledore."

"I know…but…just watch him.  I don't know what he's playing at right now but…just keep your distance."

Harry found this disturbing.  "What's so wrong with him?"  There were times when he had to admit that Sirius had spent far too much time in Azkaban to have a good sense of a situation.  A lot of things had changed those twelve years he spent there.

"I knew him as a child, Harry.  And he was dangerous.  Not the bullying type, like Severus, Wilkes, and Rosier, who took every chance they got to be loud and convince us they were dangerous.  No, he was the type who hid in the shadows waiting for _you to come to __him."_

They stepped into a small room, somewhat brighter than the others but sparsely furnished.  A tall chair stood over by the window where Lupin sat, fast asleep with a book on his lap.  They closed the door and spoke a little lower.

"What did he do that was terrible besides turning into a dragon?"  Harry had to ask.  He opened up the magazine that he had just received to the part pertaining to LeSal.  Sirius looked it over.

"Ah, I remember that.  Couldn't forget it.  James—your father got some terrible burns from that monster and then Frank Longbottom was the one whom Severus clobbered."

"I never knew Severus, Professor Snape, played Quidditch," Harry had to find out about this.  He was also reminded of one of the reasons he had come to see Sirius: to help Hermione and Neville find information.

"Yes, unfortunately."

"But then how come he hated my father so much if he could play Quidditch himself?  Was he good?"

"Yes.  Severus and his cousin were very good players.  Gave them all the more reason to hate your father.  Felt he stole all the attention.  Who would hate a good Quidditch player more than another player?  But those two played dirty."

Lupin stirred and they both looked over and once again lowered their voices.

"McGonagall even said that they cheated," Harry informed.

They sat down on a couch on the opposite side of the room.  Sirius began flipping through the copy of _Quidditch Quarterly that he still held.  He stopped and smiled when he came to the picture of James._

"Do you think my father might have played Quidditch for England?"  Harry asked, looking back over that article yet again.

Sirius let out a sigh.  "No.  I remember when this happened—he was asked, but your father wouldn't hear of it."

"Why not?"

"Because," Sirius explained.  "James was a very good man, too good to be a professional Quidditch player.  He played here at Hogwarts because it was fun.  He had no intention of making a career out of a sport.  It wasn't what he wanted.  No, he preferred to go work for the Ministry."

"The Ministry?"  It suddenly came to Harry that no one had ever spoken of his father's occupation.  "What did he do for the Ministry?"

Sirius ran a hand over his face and was about to say something when Lupin finally awoke.

"Harry?" Lupin forced himself out of his chair and the book in his lap fell to the floor.  "Why didn't you wake me, Sirius?"

Sirius didn't answer.

"So how are you?" Lupin said while stretching.  "Hope everything's going all right."

"Just fine," Harry replied, "or at least I believe so."

"That's good to hear," and he moved across the room to a table covered with different bottles.  He picked up several before deciding on one that was almost empty.  "I need to ask Severus about making some more of my medicine," he mumbled.

"It should already be taken care of," Sirius informed.  "I told Salazar and he went to go ask, or make it himself."

Lupin turned around and knotted his brow.  "He offered to make it, LeSal did?"

Sirius shrugged.

Lupin suddenly seemed very unhappy.

"Hey, if Salazar wants to get himself killed trying it, that's his own fault and so much the better," pointed out Sirius.  "Maybe we'll be lucky and he'll take out Severus with him."

"Sirius, please," Lupin scolded.  "Dumbledore is upset that we still can't work together—and I know, I dislike them as well.  But there's times where you're just as much a part of the problem as they are."

"I doubt that," Sirius said blandly.  "Harry was just asking what was so bad about Salazar.  Why don't you tell him?"

For a while, Lupin appeared hesitant to say anything.  Then he simply said, "He followed Severus around.  You know Sirius, your father, and I clashed with the Slytherins.  Of course we don't like him much."

"But he was still different," Sirius said scornfully.  "A whole lot worse than the others.  Didn't realize just how bad he was until we got out of school.  He was too smart to get caught while we were students."

"Sirius, please stop," Lupin said heavily, "I'm tired of your grudges.  You _are as bad as Severus at times.  Whether you wish to admit it or not."_

Sirius scowled but it seemed that the argument was over.

"I do have one question," Harry finally managed to say.  "It concerns the Longbottoms."

All of a sudden, Sirius looked extremely dark, darker than usual, while Lupin rested his mouth on his fist.

"What about the Longbottoms?" Sirius demanded.

Harry thought at how best to phrase his question.  "Neville, he believes that one of those who attacked his parents had a mage's staff."

At once, Lupin and Sirius turned and stared at one another.

"Neville said this?" Lupin looked very concerned.

Harry nodded.  "Hermione and Ron are in the library right now trying to figure out if he could have been there that night," he looked to Sirius for answers.

"I wouldn't know, Harry," Sirius admitted.  "I was already in prison by then."

"But I know," Lupin said softly.  He rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache.  "I am sorry that you had to ask this."

By the tone of Lupin's voice, Harry became very worried.  Professor LeSal possibly couldn't have been one to torture the Longbottoms.  He was already working for Dumbledore.  And surely if he had, he wouldn't be here teaching now.  "But I thought the LeStranges and Crouch's son were the ones who did that.  And how could Dumbledore let LeSal work here if was guilty?"

"I'm not saying that he did," said Lupin quickly.  "I'm only going to tell you what I know."  He paused.  He looked extremely tired.  "The night the Longbottoms were attacked," he began, "I was with Dumbledore, Moody, and Professor Snape, Severus Snape.  As you know, it was shortly after Voldemort's fall and we were concerned with rounding up the Death Eaters—and keeping an eye out for Voldemort.  We were still uncertain as to exactly what happened.  Well that night, it was Severus who informed us that something was wrong.  LeSal was out, we didn't know quite where, but the two Snapes had known each other long enough that they had what is known as a sympathetic magical link between them.  One always had a good idea of the spells the other was using," Lupin explained.  "He realized something was wrong—but never said exactly what spells Salazar was casting to make him believe so.  We followed him to the Longbottoms where it was of course too late.  The Death Eaters had already escaped.  Severus found Salazar while we attended to the Longbottoms."  Lupin seemed to have to stop here.  Harry could only imagine how difficult of an event that would have been to force oneself to recall.  "Salazar was found in Death Eater robes.  He was unconscious and his staff lay on the other side of the room.  Now we know he was still working as a spy but under the circumstances, the right thing for him to have done would have been for him to turn against Crouch and the Lestranges to save Frank and his wife."

Harry though quickly.  "But if he had, the Death Eaters would have killed him, not left him unconscious."

"And so that night is still a sore spot between the Snapes and Dumbledore," Lupin added.

"Which is yet another reason that leads me to believe that those two can't be trusted," Sirius growled.  "They've got a whole slew of dirty secrets their hiding.  I wouldn't be surprised if that Salazar did torture the Longbottoms.  And I wouldn't put it past Severus to cover it up."


	6. Creevey's Surprise

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

Summary: Ummm…in this chapter, Creevey gets a surprise, or more, he surprises everyone else… 

Chapter VI 

Creevey's Surprise

Harry walked numbly back to the regular part of the school.  He thought about going to the library but then though better of it and headed off to Gryffindor tower.  How was he going to tell Neville that LeSal was there that night?

Was he?

Something just didn't seem right.  He had to admit that Sirius and Lupin were prejudice against the Snapes.  Perhaps they were too ready to draw conclusions.  After all, Harry highly doubted that Dumbledore would allow anyone guilty, or highly suspected, of committing such a heinous crime to teach at Hogwarts.

The more he thought about it, the more Harry doubted whether he should tell Neville.  If the news got out that the Snapes had been Death Eaters and that LeSal might be guilty of torturing an Auror and his wife… Dumbledore might be forced to fire them.  He remembered when parents found out about Lupin being a werewolf.  It was probably better if he didn't tell anyone about the Snapes, though he did not entirely dislike the idea of getting Snape sacked.

"Niminy piminy," he said to the fat lady, and he crawled through the portrait hole.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed upon seeing him enter.  His hopes of having a while to sort things out were gone.  "You wouldn't believe what we found.  Did you find anything out from…uh, Snuffles?"  Neville was in the room and gave Hermione and Ron a queer look.

Harry stared dumbly at them.  He scratched at his head and then forced a shrug.  "He didn't know much.  He couldn't have known much about it because of where he was at the time."

Hermione understood and nodded.  "We did manage to find a few things in the library," and she opened up a book.

"Look, we got a picture of Snape's parents," Ron had leaned in and started flipping through the pages.  "Nasty set," he commented, stopping and pointing to a very bony and angry looking couple.

"They were some of the first supporters of Voldemort.  They worked as a team and were wanted by the Ministry for several years until they were finally tracked down by a group of Aurors."

"Look," Neville suddenly pointed out.  "One of the Aurors who finally caught them was my grandfather, Lawrence Longbottom."

Harry found it hard to believe that Neville came from a long line Arurors.  He was suddenly hit with a realization: if a Longbottom had been responsible for throwing some Snapes in Azkaban… 

He wondered how close LeSal had been to his aunt and uncle.  They had raised him, had they not?  Though by the picture, they didn't appear to be much of the nurturing type.

"Did you find out anything about why he was raised by his aunt and uncle?" Harry asked.

Hermione reached for another book.  "Not exactly."

"Now this is weird," Ron commented.

"Claudius Snape, Old Snape's father and LeSal's uncle, didn't have any brothers, only a sister."

They all leaned closer over the book.  There was a picture of a beautiful woman with black sparkling eyes and hair.  "She doesn't look much like a Snape," Ron pointed out.

Harry had to agree.

"She went missing shortly after LeSal would have been born.  We believe she was probably his mother.  The Snape family, while it is old, is extremely small.  The two at this school are the only ones left."

Harry studied the book and saw why she was in a book.  "She murdered a muggle?"

Hermione and Ron nodded.  "She was wanted by the Ministry, but was never found," Hermione explained.

"Great family, huh?" said Ron.  "Prisoners in Azkaban, murderers on the run, Death Eaters.  Lovely bunch.  It's no wonder why Snape is such a…"

Harry blocked out Ron's rant.  He had noticed something that made his heart slide into his throat.  He pulled the book with the picture of LeSal's mom closer.

The caption read: "Nagini Snape, former employee at Department of Muggle Artifacts is wanted by Magical Law Enforcement for the murder of a muggle male in 1961.  She is suspected of being a close follower of You-Know-Who and is deemed extremely dangerous.  Miss Snape is still at large, however, no trace of her has been found since the murder."

He stared hard at the picture.  Her eyes, as he stared at them, the common room seemed to disappear and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end.  He had seen them before…

"Harry?" Hermione said after a time.  By the look on her face, she seemed worried.  "Harry?  Are you all right?"

"Was she ever found?" he questioned.

Slowly, Hermione shook her head.  "Do you know something?"

"I know that look, Harry.  Have you seen her?" Ron asked.

Harry pried his eyes away from the picture.  "How common of a name is Nagini?"

Hermione pulled the book away from Harry as if she didn't, he might hurt himself.  "Not very.  I've never run across it until now.  Why?"

Harry wondered what the chances were… No, he was letting Voldemort get to him.  This was crazy.  "Nothing," he replied.  "Quit being so paranoid," he told himself as he got up from the table.  "It's time for dinner and I'm hungry," he said, needing to change the subject.  

* * *

"Colin Creevey?" Ron said with a moan.  "Look, Harry, it's your number one fan.  He's not going to try out, is he?"

Harry whirled around and looked with dread as Colin Creevey came marching across the field.

"He's not going to start that again," commented Ron, pointing to a camera around his neck.

Harry rolled his eyes.  He was somewhat relieved, however, when Colin didn't stop and just went and sat in the bleachers.  He then waved to his brother, Dennis—who was clutching a broomstick in his hands.  Harry thought back to last year at how excited Dennis got at being thrown into a boat by a giant squid.  

Dennis was smiling broadly and Harry grinned back and motioned for him to come over.

"Okay," Harry explained.  "Katy and Angelina, I need you to take the quaffle and try your hardest to score a goal.  Everyone who is trying out for the position of keeper will take a turn at guarding the goals…" Harry had to stop.  There was commotion around Dennis Creevey.  "Listen," he pleaded, "I'm explaining…"

"C'mon, where'd you get the Firebolt, Creevey?" someone said.

Harry took interest.  "A Firebolt?"

Dennis nodded.  "Professor LeSal lent it to me.  Said I could use it for games if I made the team," and he held it up proudly.  "And he said Victor Krum of the Bulgarians has used this one."  The crowd around him became even more rowdy at this.

"Professor LeSal _lent_ it to you?" Harry said in disbelief.

"Wait a minute," Fred eyed it suspiciously.  "Let me get this right.  A _Slytherin_ offered to lend a broom to be used on the _Gryffindor_ Quidditch team?"

"He helped me practice.  I don't think he's a _real_ Slytherin," Dennis said defensively.

Harry didn't wish to comment, so he said loudly, "I need everyone who is trying out to line up.  You're going to take turns."  He noticed that Ron had run to be first in line.  If Ron didn't do well, Harry was dreading having to turn him down.

"Might as well get it over with," he said shakily but smiling.

Ron did do well.  Very well in fact, but he was no match compared to Dennis Creevey on a Firebolt.  Creevy seemed to become just a blur that managed to repel almost every single of Katy and Angelina's shots.  Harry stared in wonder and only looked away once when he heard a series of rapid clicks, and he turned to see Colin taking pictures.  For once he couldn't blame him.  Watching Dennis block the quaffle, which the girls had begun to beat at the goals in true earnest, was something that made Harry hang his mouth open and stare.  Eventually, they all landed, exhausted.  Dennis landed near Harry, a wide grin plastered across his face.

"So how'd I do, Harry Potter?"

"Well," Harry reached up and scratched the back of his head.  He'd have to admit that he'd never seen anything quite like it.  With hardly a thought, he said,  "I think you've got it."

There was a round of applause after he said this; only Harry noticed a hurt look cross Ron's face.

"Ah, Ron, don't taking it hard," he heard both Fred and George say.  "You play better as a beater, like us.  You'll be on the team next year after we're gone."

"It's because of that Firebolt!" Ron spat.  "If I didn't have such a crappy broom," and he stormed from the field.

Harry felt the urge to go after him but it was then that Professor McGonagall arrived.

"Have you found our new keeper already?" she asked.

"It's me, Professor!" Dennis exclaimed.

"Yah, you should have seen him," Colin boasted.  "I got pictures."

McGonagall just smiled.  "That's wonderful, Dennis.  I hardly expected—didn't even know that you were going to try.  Good for you."

"Why'd you come out, Professor?" Harry asked, remembering last time.

"I was just interested to see who our new player was going to be.  That and Professor Snape will be coming out shortly to talk to you about games and practice schedules."

Harry nodded.  By the tone of her voice, he sensed that she had come to oversee as these happened.

"Ah, there he is now."

"Minerva, nice to see you out here," LeSal said formally as he approached the crowd. Harry saw him give a thumbs up to Dennis, and Dennis promptly returned it.

McGonagall gave only a slight smile and stepped back.  LeSal strode up to Harry.

"You're the captain, right Harry?"

"Yes, Professor."

"I've got the game schedule for you."  He leaned his staff against his shoulder and unrolled a piece of parchment.  "I also need you to sign up for practice times.  Draco and Miss Chang already have.  I still need to find out who the Hufflepuff captain is, however.

"When's our first game?" Harry asked, not at all happy that the Slytherin and Ravenclaws had gotten first dibs on practice times.  There was also a strange feeling in his chest at the mention of Miss Chang as the new Ravenclaw captain as well as a pang for the mention of a Hufflepuff captain.

"You're first game is on Saturday," LeSal replied.  "And I was just informed that the Minister of Magic has expressed to me that he might take a break with his family to come watch."

The team members began to talk excitedly and Harry felt happy about it as well, but when he glance up at Professor LeSal, he noticed that his lips were tight and his eyes especially dark.  "Who are we going to play?"

LeSal looked down at the parchment.  "Uh…Slytherin House."

The chattering abruptly ceased and there was some grumbling.  LeSal didn't notice.  He suddenly didn't seem to be paying attention to anything.  He only stared back at the castle before tossing the parchment to Harry.  "Here, fill this out—try to be considerate of the Hufflepuffs, okay?" he said quickly.  "Drop it off at my office when you've fill it out."  With that, he took off at a brisk pace for the castle, and once a distance from the students, he rolled up the sleeve of his left arm.  He took a glance at his forearm before breaking into a run.

Harry stared after him briefly, but was forced to turn back to his teammates.


	7. Angry Scar

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

Summary: Something happens at the Quidditch game and something's up with Cornelius Fudge.

Chapter VII

Angry Scar

Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors were rather glum for the rest of the weekend.  Their first match _had_ to be against the Slytherins.  Harry's first game as captain was going to be against their greatest rivals, but then again, it would be Draco's first time as captain as well.  Draco: annoyingly enough he had taken most of the good practice slots.  Harry wanted to complain to Professor LeSal but he wasn't there when he dropped off the parchment and he didn't feel like trying to find him in the staff quarters.

He really didn't think anything of not being able to find LeSal until Monday morning. 

They had all been expecting a test in Potions and had stayed up late Sunday night studying and preparing themselves for the test and came in prepared for Old Snape's usual snide remarks and pressure.

Harry walked in, bracing himself, but he got a shock as soon as he looked around.  For the first time since he had been at Hogwarts, Professor Snape was not there.  Dumbledore stood at the head of the classroom.

"You may leave as soon as you have completed your exams," Dumbledore said as he handed out pieces of parchment.  "Professor Snape informed me that all of the ingredients you will need can be found in your class cupboard.  Also, those of you who have Defense Against the Dark Arts later today, your class has been cancelled."

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks.  "I hope they're all right," Ron whispered.

There was a good deal of whispering, especially from the Slytherin side of the room.  Dumbledore was watching them grimly, his arms crossed.

"Idiots," Harry mumbled.  

Hermione gave him a questioning look. 

"You can probably guess where the Snapes are," he said lowly so that no one else could hear.  "And I bet you two to one that a lot of their parents are with them," and he jerked his head toward the Slytherins.  "That's probably what they're talking about—and in front of Dumbledore.  Not too bright, but good for us."

Hermione swallowed, nodded, then looked down at her test.

* * *

Both Snape and LeSal were seen in the castle the following day and Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts resumed as usual on Friday.  Snape was being as contemptuous as always, seemingly dissatisfied that the Gryffindors did so well on the test while the Slytherins mainly failed.  What was unusual was Defense Against the Dark Arts.  Professor LeSal was hideously grouchy.

What more, was that Harry's scar suddenly began to burn.

Dean Thomas had already been harshly scolded for making a snide comment about Professor Snape.  Professor LeSal had lashed out and given Dean a detention in which he was to report to Filch and had taken points from Gryffindor.  He then turned on the entire class when he had asked for them to take out their texts to review some questions for the O.W.L.S.  The class had gotten used to not using them and had not brought them with.

"What do you mean none of you have your books?" Professor LeSal asked angrily of the shocked class.  

Harry began to wonder if he had somehow ended up in Potions again.  LeSal's voice sounded strangely similar to Severus' at the moment.

"You come to class without your books?  I can't believe this.  How do any of you plan on passing your O.W.L.S.?  Ten points from Gryffindor," he paced the front of the classroom, his dark red cape swishing angrily after him.  "And I am assigning you all an essay on the best ways to repel a Dementor and battle a giant.  It's to be at least three feet long, and I _will_ take points off for large writing, Mr. Weasely.  You're to have it finished by the time you return here on Monday."

"What?" someone squawked.  "You can't assign homework over the weekend like that.  We've got the Quidditch match tomorrow."

"Do not argue with me, Mr. Thomas.  You are already in trouble as it is," Professor LeSal said in a low hiss exactly like Snape's.  "I advise you to shut your mouth for the remainder of the class."

Harry heard Ron cuss under his breath.  Ever since the tryouts, Ron had claimed LeSal as an enemy for lending Creevey a Firebolt.  He continued to insist that the broom was cursed.  At the moment, Harry thought about it himself.  The relationship between the Snapes was currently very clear.  He began to turn over all the things that Sirius and Remus said.

"He's in pain," Hermione whispered, breaking his train of thought.  

"What?"

"Look at him," Hermione said, leaning over.  "Something's wrong."

When he looked, Harry couldn't see how he had missed it.  LeSal didn't look well.  There were beads of perspiration on his forehead and under his nose.  He was on the whole quite disheveled.  His hair wasn't brushed all the way through, and he hadn't put his usual sash on over his robes.

"Potter!" 

The sudden exclamation caused Harry to jump.

"You and Miss Granger here seem to be off on your own little subject.  Mind sharing it with the class?"

Harry gulped.

"It's just that you're acting different," Hermione ventured.  "We were wondering what was wrong.  Are you all right, Professor?"

LeSal seemed a little taken aback by the question.  It was evident he wasn't expecting such a response and was a bit awkward in knowing how to reply.  He opened his mouth and closed it again.

"Are you okay, Professor?" Lavender asked.  "You're acting like Old Professor Snape."

At this, the professor leaned heavily against his desk and gripped the edge of it tightly.  "No I'm not well," he finally admitted.  "Now…pick up your things.  I'll see you on Monday."

The class gathered their books.  "I wonder if I still have a detention," Harry heard Dean say as he was leaving.

"Harry, wait," the professor called out, stopping him in his tracks.

Harry whirled around.  LeSal had collapsed into a chair.  "Come here."

The last of the class left and Harry stood nervously before LeSal.

"I need you to go into my office.  You'll find a bottle with blue powder on the mantel."  Harry noticed that he was having difficulty breathing.  "Throw some into the fireplace and ask for Snape's office.  Stick your head in and tell him that I need him immediately.  If he's not there, try the apartment."

Harry nodded and headed out of the room.  Why did the professor have to ask him to fetch Snape?  He shook slightly as he reached for the powder on the mantel.  He was the last person that Snape would want poking his head unexpectedly into his office.  

He threw the powder over the fire.  "Potions office," he said and carefully leaned over the fire, the flames of which had turned a deep blue.  

It was rather strange.  His first thought was of a giraffe, as it seemed he was stretching his neck through the network of flues.  When his head finally stopped he found himself looking into Snape's office.  He was seated at his desk, leaning over a deck of cards.  He was rapidly turning them over.

Harry swallowed hard.  "Uh, scuse me, Professor."

Snape whirled around.  "Potter, what are you doing?"  He sounded slightly angry but yet somewhat frightened by the intrusion.  He struck Harry as being strangely jumpy.

"Professor LeSal told me to get you."

Snape pushed the cards aside angrily and stood up.  "He's sick, isn't he?"

"Uh, yes, he is," Harry replied.

Shoving a chair aside, Snape grabbed a goblet and a bottle of some smoking yellow liquid.  "Get out of the way Potter."

For a moment, Harry was somewhat uncertain as to what he was supposed to do, but rather than ask Snape, he forced himself to pull back and found his head rushing back toward his body.  He had barely managed to stumble away from the fireplace when Snape came stepping through.

Professor Snape didn't even look at him as he stormed by toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.  Harry followed far behind to retrieve his things.

"If you'd take this like I told you, you wouldn't be having this problem," Snape was scolding.

LeSal was leaning sickly over his desk as Snape poured some of the liquid into the goblet.  "I think I'm going to need you to step in for me tomorrow for the Quidditch match," he said wearily.

"No," Snape said, pushing the goblet toward him.  "If you take this three times today, you should be fine tomorrow."

The goblet was steaming and Harry got a putrid whiff of it.  LeSal had grabbed it and was grimacing.  He took a swig and immediately began coughing violently.  "Damnit, Sev.  This stuff burns."

"You know it will help." 

"Or kill me."

Snape suddenly noticed Harry.  "Potter, get out of here!" 

"Wait," LeSal said, putting down the goblet.  He grabbed at the edge of Harry's robes to stop him.  "Thank you, Harry.  I just couldn't ask any of the other students.  You understand.  They can't know what's going on."  But Harry didn't hear much.  It was as if someone had just touched a hot poker to his head.  It was quick but it made him cringe and place a hand on his forehead.  Neither Snape nor LeSal seemed to have noticed.

"Potter, please leave, and you," Snape said turning back to LeSal, "I want to see you finish drinking that.  I will not take over your Quidditch duties if you choose not to take all of it."

Harry saw LeSal once again pick up the goblet as he hurried from the room.  The scar on his head was still pulsing from the bout of pain.  It was the first time it had hurt since last year, and though it was short, it frightened him.

* * *

The weather Saturday was not too bad.  It was cloudy, which would mean they wouldn't have to play with the sun in their eyes.  The only bad thing was that there was a light rain coming down.  Harry stood out on the field shivering in the rain with the rest of the team.  The Slytherins had not yet arrived.

The crowd was beginning to grumble.

"If they don't come, we win," George said hopefully.  "Where's Professor LeSal?"

Harry looked around and hoped he was coming.  He wasn't ready to have Professor Snape referee his first game.

"I sure hope that I get to see a game."

Harry turned around at the sound Fudge's voice.

"Minister," he said.  "Sorry that you're having to wait.  We don't know yet where the Slytherins are."

"Ah, yes," said Fudge.  "Gryffindor versus Slytherin.  Always promises to be a good game."

Harry didn't want to talk to Fudge.  He didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment besides someone who could tell him what was going on.  Malfoy was making him furious.  He began to hope for a forfeit.

"Harry, I need to speak to you after the game," Fudge said lowly.

"Good morning, Cornelius."  Dumbledore walked up from behind them and stood before Fudge.  From the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes, he did not seem at all happy.

"Dumbledore," Fudge took a step back and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.  "You've been extremely difficult to contact over the summer."

"I've been busy," Dumbledore replied curtly.

As Harry watched them, he realized there seemed to be a second conversation taking place between them.  One much deeper than the one on the surface.  He could feel Fudge's grip on his shoulder getting tighter.

"There are many questions left unanswered about last year's events at this school that left one student dead."

"I believe you have the answers to those questions," answered Dumbledore.  "And there has been more than enough proof over the summer.  I believe many of your Aurors have had their hands full."

"Still there are some things that I wish to sort out," Fudge released his grip on Harry and patted his shoulder.  "I'm requesting that you allow me to question Mr. Potter."

Harry barely took notice that the Slytherins had come onto the field.  Didn't Fudge call him a liar last time?  He felt extremely uncomfortable.

Dumbledore crossed his arms.  "I am sorry, Minister, but I'd rather not have Harry leave the grounds."

"I don't believe you understand," Fudge drawled, "I am not merely making a request.  I am demanding to see him.  There are questions that it is imperative that we have answers to.  Now, it will only be for a few hours and we can arrange to have him come on a weekend.  You may also have a professor accompany him if you wish.  However, if you come, you will not be allowed to be present when we question him."

"And why is that?"  Dumbledore did not seem happy at all.

"We do not wish you to pressure him into saying anything or leaving something out."

"What is there to leave out?" Harry finally spoke up.  "Voldemort's back!"  Fudge cringed at the name.  "He killed Cedric and tried to kill me.  What else do you want to know?"

"Frankly, there is a lot," Fudge replied.  "Don't worry, Harry.  You're not in trouble.  The Diggory's are some of those who want answers.  Don't you wish to help Cedric's parents?"

Dumbledore stepped closer to Harry.  "I will give it consideration as will Harry, but it will be his decision.  And I daresay this is the time or place to discuss this," he added sternly.

"Very well.  But remember this," Fudge turned to head back to the bleachers.  "I could still have you removed as headmaster," and then he walked away, passing Professor LeSal and Snape who exchanged glares.

"What does he want?" Snape asked.

"He wishes to question Harry about last year," Dumbledore said with a sigh.

"He wants to take him to the Ministry?" LeSal furrowed his brow.

"Why would he need him?" Snape asked.  "What's Fudge up to that he needs to pull a student from school?"  There seemed to be a hint of loathing in his voice.

"Yes, we know what happened last time a student was pulled for 'questioning,'" LeSal said bitterly.

"Enough of this talk," Dumbledore put up his hand.  "Harry, play a good game.  We'll discuss this later."

His team was summoning him, and he left Dumbledore for his huddled teammates.  He told himself to not think of what was just said and instead set his mind on the game.  After all, he had been waiting for so long to play.  He gripped his Firebolt, looked determinedly over at Malfoy, and leaned into the huddle.

"I think we'll have an advantage in this game," he said in a hushed voice.  "I believe Malfoy is going to think he can cheat…"

"But McGonagall said…"

"I heard what she said," Harry explained quickly.  "I trust LeSal to make him follow the rules, especially with Fudge in the audience."  He removed his glasses and wiped the rain from them, took out his wand and placed a water-repelling charm on them.  "So be careful.  You've watched the Slytherins play before, haven't you Dennis?"

Dennis nodded and clutched his broomstick tighter to him.

"Be careful," Harry cautioned. "All of you.  They may really start playing dirty."

"Captains, are your teams ready?"  Professor LeSal sat hovering a few feet over the field on a broom, his fur lined cape wrapped tightly around him.

Both Harry and Malfoy stepped forward.

"Then shake hands and we'll begin."

Harry stepped toward Malfoy and tried his best to hide his disgust.  They took each other's extended hand and squeezed.  Harry hoped that his grip was stronger than Malfoy's, though he had a fairly strong hand himself.

"Uh, that'll be enough," LeSal said softly as he watched them attempting to pop the blood from each other's fingers.

They let go and Malfoy sneered.  "I'll beat you this time, Potter.  Have a safe flight," and he chuckled as he headed back for his team.

"Ready."  LeSal was opening the box containing all the balls.  "Let the game begin."

Harry watched as the golden snitch burst from its enclosure and flittered off.  He kicked off the soft ground hard and soared upwards above the game.  Malfoy followed and leveled out a few meters away.  He made a rude hand gesture and Harry returned it then focused his attention on finding the snitch.  He wished he could find it now and shove it in Malfoy's face.

The Gryffindor chasers were already doing a fine job and he heard Lee Jordan exclaim, "Will you look at that?  The Gryffindors already have a score, just seconds into the game!  Will there be a game at all?  Seems like the Slytherins still haven't arrived yet."

"What are you doing?" Malfoy screamed down at his teammates.  "Go after those girls!"

Harry searched even harder for the snitch.  Now would be a perfect time for it to show: while Malfoy wasn't paying attention.  He noticed that the players were suddenly rushing toward the Gryffindor goals.

"Byron Brocklehurst, newest and youngest player on the Slytherin team has the quaffle and is moving in fast.  Oh yes!  Nice save Creevey!  Oh!  What was that?  Why you dirty little warlock!  Professor LeSal is calling a time out.  One of those dirty Slytherin snakes hit Katy Bell with their beater paddle.  Foul!"

Harry heard mumbling from the announcer and supposed it was McGonagall reprimanding Lee, as he and Malfoy landed on the field.  He hurried over to where Katy sat holding the side of her face.

"It was an accident!" Malfoy exclaimed, striding up to Professor LeSal.

"I don't want to hear it, Draco," LeSal replied.  "Yes Poppy, is she going to be all right?"

"She'll just be a little bruised," Madam Pompfrey replied as she held her wand up to Katy Bell's face.

"I say they should forfeit!" George yelled.

"Shut up, Weasley, it was an accident!" Malfoy countered.

"Stop arguing," LeSal ordered.  "Or I'll call a foul on both teams."  He turned to Malfoy, "Draco, you better start playing a cleaner game starting now, or I _will_ have Slytherin forfeit to Gryffindor."

"But it was an accident…"

"Do you want me to let them take _two_ penalty shots?"

Malfoy looked shocked. "But…" 

LeSal threw him a warning look.  "Penalty shot!  Now let's get back to the game.  Are you in Miss Bell?"

Katy stood up and nodded.

"Okay then.  Back in the air!" and he blew a whistle.

They kicked off once again and took position to take the penalty shot.  Katy scored it.

"Good shot!" Jordan's voice boomed.  "Sixty to zero—serves you right, you—sorry Ms. McGonagall.  Gryffindors lead."

Harry went back to searching for the snitch.  Malfoy followed him and he leaned forward on his Firebolt to lose him, but he suddenly noticed what Malfoy had.

"Father got me a Firebolt too, Potter," Malfoy said proudly.

"Get lost," said Harry and he desperately looked around for a glint of gold.

"Fat chance.  I can keep up with you now."

Harry cussed irritably under his breath, then he remembered something.  The Wronsky Feint. Images of the Irish seeker plowing into the turf came through his mind.  He imagined Malfoy smacking into the ground instead and smiled.  

"Here comes Brocklehurst again," Jordan was saying.  "Looks like the Slytherins finally realized that not all their players had to be oversized trolls.  Oh no!  He scored."

"Good job, Byron!" Malfoy screamed.  "Kick those Gryffindor…"

Harry went into a dive.  Malfoy noticed and went swooping down after him desperately looking for the snitch.

There was no snitch, and Harry held back so the Malfoy could catch up.  They were pummeling toward the ground at an astonishing rate.

"Look!" Jordan cried.  "The seekers have seen the—ooo!"  Just feet from the ground, Harry pulled up, missing the turf by inches, but Malfoy was too late.  "It was the Wronsky Feint!  Just like Krum!" Jordan was exclaiming excitedly.  "And poor Malfoy, that _had_ to hurt."

Harry landed and looked on as Madam Pompfrey tried to weed her way through the Slytherin team, who had crowded around Malfoy.  He hadn't gotten up yet.

"Everyone, back!" LeSal ordered.  The Slytherins parted for him.  "Draco!  Are you okay?"

There was no answer and suddenly, Harry's feeling of triumph melted.  What if he had seriously hurt him?  What if…

"Potter broke my broom!" Malfoy suddenly screamed.

Harry's teammates had gathered around him.  "If he's concerned about that, then he must be all right," Angelina commented.

Professor LeSal had finally managed to clear a good area around Malfoy and when Harry and his team got a glimpse of him, they all cringed at once.  He had a split lip and what looked to be a broken nose.  

Fred and George turned around.  "Way to go Potter!  You got him good," and they raised a hand for a high five.

"Harry, if it were anyone else, I'd feel bad.  But I'll admit, that serves him right," Alicia commented.  "Good job."

Harry decided to step closer to see what was to happen next with the game.  LeSal had a hold of Malfoy's broom and was busy mending it with his staff while Madam Pompfrey was mending Malfoy.

"That was a foul!" Malfoy exclaimed to Professor LeSal.

"Yes," LeSal agreed.

"What?" Harry called out, and he decided to come over.  "Was not."

"Now don't argue with me, Harry," LeSal said as he finished fixing Malfoy's Firebolt.  "While what you did was very skillful, your intention was to cause Mr. Malfoy harm."

"But I did the Wronsky Feint!"

"Yes, you did.  And very well too.  But your intentions were no different than that of the beater's who hit Katy."

"The Wronsky Feint isn't illegal!" Harry argued.

"Yes it is."

Harry couldn't believe this.  "But you taught Victor Krum…"

"And I called a foul whenever he did it."

Harry looked over and saw Malfoy looking daggers at him.  "We should get two penalty shots.  That was a lousy trick Potter did."

"You'll receive one," LeSal replied simply.  "But only one."

Malfoy looked even more furious.  "You'll regret this Potter!  My father…"

Professor LeSal turned sharply.  "Gave me permission to use corporal punishment on you," he interrupted.  "Now enough, Draco.  Don't make me embarrass you anymore than you already are."

For once, Draco looked lost for words.  Harry had to turn away, most of his team was grinning.

"Penalty," LeSal announced.  "A penalty shot to Slytherin."

There was booing from the Gryffindor side of the stands and Lee Jordan was voicing his complaints.  

"Don't worry," Fred said, patting Harry on the back before they took off.  "It was worth it to see Malfoy rearrange his face in the mud."

They soared into the air and once again Harry took his place as lookout.  Malfoy joined him.

"You _will_ regret this."

"Hope your face doesn't swell up too much," Harry replied.  "Though purple does go well with green."

He heard Malfoy swear.

Byron Brocklehurst made the shot.  Harry didn't blame Creevey, however, Brocklehurst was better than he wanted to admit.  They'd have to watch him in the future.  Then he saw it.

Glittering over some of the Slytherin spectators was the snitch.  He glanced over at Malfoy who was still busy cursing and decided to run for it.  He shot down quickly.  There was a whooshing sound behind him and he knew Malfoy was probably hot on his tail, but he had had the head start.  The Slytherins looked above them and pointed at it, screaming.  The roar of the crowds sounded in his ears as he came upon it.  The Slytherins were booing and some even threw some cockroach clusters at him as his fingers closed around the snitch.  He held it high for everyone-- and Malfoy, to see and soared out of reach of the Slytherin crowd.

He felt his heart fluttering as fast as the snitch's wings as the noise of the cheering crowd gave him a rush.  Then he was hit by something.

He was taken by complete surprise and as he fell from his broom, he got a glimpse of a malevolent looking Malfoy with wand in hand.  

Harry was falling fast and he had been extremely high off the ground.  He looked desperately at his teammates who were rushing toward him.  Insanely enough, he realized that he was still madly clutching the snitch.

Then he felt a firm hand grab onto him, but at the same time his scar exploded with pain.  The hand let go, but quickly caught him again.  His scar hurt him so badly, that he let go of the snitch and heard himself yell out.

He was dropped roughly on the ground and the just lay on the wet grass, letting the rain beat on his face as he waited for the pain to recede.  When he opened his eyes he saw the worried faces of his teammates.  A few feet away, he also saw Professor LeSal kneeling on the ground.  He was clutching at a hand that looked to have been seriously burned.


	8. The Truth Behind the Staff

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

Summary: Will Snape and Sirius ever get along?

Chapter VIII

The Truth Behind the Staff

Harry was in a daze.  His friends had huddled around him and a great cheer went up when he rose to his feet, but he paid them little attention.

Professor LeSal had gotten up and was concealing his hand with his cape as he showed it to Dumbledore and Snape.  They had all become very serious and they all at once looked over at Harry.

Ron had come down and was busy saying something about Malfoy when Dumbledore came over.  "Harry, I need you to come with me."  He sounded urgent.

Ron started wide-eyed and looked about to say something but Hermione held him back.  Harry obeyed and left his bewildered friends and teammates.

"Does your head still hurt?" Dumbledore asked after they were some distance away.

"No," Harry replied.  "What happened?"  He glanced over at Professor LeSal who seemed to be biting back the pain.  Snape was walking close at his side, wand out, attempting to start the healing process on LeSal's hand, but it seemed that he wasn't making much progress.

"I don't know what happened," Dumbledore admitted, "but I have an idea."

Harry's head was swimming.  What had just happened?  The only time his scar had hurt had always been because of Voldemort.  He looked sideways at LeSal.  What was going on?

They walked briskly through the school and up the winding stairs to Dumbledore's office.  Professor LeSal sat down in a chair at the side of the room while Snape stood over him, guarding him.

"I don't understand exactly why that happened, but it's certainly not Salazar's fault," Snape said at once.

Dumbledore put up a hand and leaned against his desk.  "Sit down, Harry; and Severus, you should probably see to getting something to help your cousin."

Snape seemed hesitant to step away, but he finally left.

"Harry, you came to me yesterday, telling me that your scar briefly hurt.  At that time, you were with Professors Snape and LeSal?"

Harry had stopped to talk to Dumbledore yesterday, and he had been somewhat concerned, but had strangely relaxed when he had been told that LeSal had been there.

"Yes," Harry answered slowly, eyeing Professor LeSal with a new sense of suspicion.  He then suddenly remembered, "I think Professor LeSal grabbed at my cloak."

"Did you notice anything?" Dumbledore asked LeSal.

"No, but I wasn't well, and had just taken some potion that Severus made."  He squeezed his eyes shut seemingly against an oncoming migraine.

"Yes…" Dumbledore nodded.  "In case you didn't know," he explained.  "During Harry's first year here, Voldemort took over the body of one of the professors…"

"I've heard of that incident," LeSal interrupted.  "But what exactly caused Voldemort to have to leave that man's body?  I never heard.  You must understand—I heard about what happened from a …uh…unreliable source."

"The charm that Harry's mother placed on him, that made it impossible for Voldemort to touch him…"

"But last spring…" LeSal cut in.  Harry couldn't recall a time when he had ever seen a professor interrupt Dumbledore.

"The charm has been broken for him," Dumbledore continued, not seemingly bothered at being interrupted. "What's curious, is what ever it is that caused Voldemort not to be able to touch Harry, you have as well." 

Professor LeSal shifted around in his seat and looked down at his wounded hand.  "I don't know what it would be."

There was a creak as the door to the office suddenly opened.  A large black dog came loping in.

"Harry, are you okay?  What happened?" Sirius had transformed back into himself.  He turned on LeSal.  "What have you done, Salazar?  What are you up to?"

"I saved Harry from breaking his neck," LeSal said rather coldly, and he closed his eyes again.

Sirius looked disgusted at his burnt hand.

"We're attempting to find out exactly what happened, but I'm sure that it is something far beyond LeSal's fault or control," Dumbledore explained calmly.

Sirius was about to say something but Snape came back carrying an earthenware jar.  He stopped at the sight of Sirius.

"What's he doing here?" Snape said, pointing.

"I need to know what happened to Harry," Sirius returned.

"You stay out of it.  It's Salazar that's hurt, not Harry.  Now get out of here."  Snape pushed past and knelt down before LeSal.

LeSal drew up his face in pain as Severus turned his blistered hand over, studying it more closely.  Then he opened the jar and proceeded to rub some of the cream onto the burn.  LeSal jerked back almost causing Severus to drop the jar.

"What the hell, Sev!  That's not regular _incendium cream_.  Could you have found anything that stung more?"

"I'd calm down if I were you," Snape said lowly.  "That's no ordinary burn."  He turned and stared hard at Harry.

Sirius caught sight of the hostile look.  "It's not Harry's fault…"

"I'm not blaming Harry," LeSal spoke up.  "Sev, will you watch it?"

Severus looked irritated and slapped on more cream a little less than gently.  LeSal realized what was best and sunk back into his chair and dug his chin into his free hand, letting his staff clatter to the floor.  Severus immediately jumped away from it.

"Watch that!"

"Sorry," LeSal mumbled but didn't look it in the least.

Suddenly, Sirius backed up.  At first Harry thought it had to do something with the staff but then he pointed an accusing finger at LeSal.  "I knew it!"  He grabbed Harry and pulled him back toward him.

Dumbledore looked very concerned.  "What is it, Sirius?"  

"_Salaza_r, of course, with a name like that!"  Sirius was wringing his hands and his eyes flashed at the Snapes.  "Harry, what did you say the name of that snake that was the pet of Voldemort?"

Harry looked over at LeSal in shock then at his godfather who was staring down Snape.  Professor LeSal had looked up and was staring fixedly at Sirius.  Harry couldn't read him.  Surely what he had thought earlier, after Hermione had showed him that book… It couldn't be true, could it?  "Nagini," he answered quietly at last.

"Nagini Snape," Sirius said with triumph.  "Old follower of Voldemort.  Crippled by an Auror."

"So he turned her into a snake," Dumbledore said quietly.  "Yes, Sirius, but she has nothing to do with what we're concerned with at this moment."

"Yes she does," argued Sirius, stomping his foot.  Harry wanted to step away from him.  "She was Salazar's mother."

Harry wondered if Sirius noticed the look the Snapes were giving him.  Slowly, he inched toward Dumbledore.  Even he had never gotten Snape to look at him so murderously, so full of hatred, and he hoped he never would.

"His mother—and Voldemort himself," Sirius growled.  "He's got Lord Voldemort's blood in him that's why you were burned, Harry.  Salazar Snake is the very own son of…"

LeSal shot up out of his seat, knocking Severus backward and causing the jar of cream to crash to the floor.  He bent down and picked up his staff, which immediately turned green.  "How dare you!" he stormed.  "How dare you say that!"

"Salazar," Dumbledore said quietly.  Harry watched as he actually took out his wand and crossed his arms across his chest, making sure that LeSal saw it.

LeSal shut his mouth and backed down, though it seemed as if he were attempting to grind his teeth to powder.

"LeSal is not Voldemort's son, Sirius," Dumbledore explained calmly.

"He's not?"  Sirius took his eyes off the Snapes and looked over at Dumbledore.

"No!" LeSal confirmed.  "My father was a muggle."  His face twisted into a sneer.  "I'm a mudblood just like you."

Dumbledore threw LeSal a warning glance, apparently for his poor choice of words.

"Sorry, Sirius," said LeSal in a tone that made it sound like when Malfoy was forced to apologize.  "Suppose you can't help yourself.  All those years in Azkaban could easily cause someone to see a boogerman hiding behind every bush."  Then he turned to Dumbledore, "See, Headmaster?  You wonder why we can't get along.  I've been trying.  Merlin! I've been trying, but neither Black nor Lupin trusts us.  Especially Black," and he furiously whirled around on Sirius.  "You damn well think we enjoy dressing up as Death Eaters and think that at anytime we'd go back?  Yes, Sirius, it's a real _tempting_ thing to do.  It's a real _cracking_ good time we're having.  Sunday, the Dark Lord himself took me out for a drink.  S'been hell of a hangover.  Have to drink some vile crap Severus concocted just so I might not go insane…"

"Salazar," Dumbledore broke in, "may I remind you that there is a student in the room?"

LeSal closed his mouth and retreated back to the chair he had been sitting in.  He studied the mess that the broken jar had made.  He didn't even attempt to fix it, but just smeared the cream with his shoe.  Severus looked irritatingly at it and pointed his wand down at the floor to clean it up.

"Sirius, I understand how you must feel.  However, the Snapes have been putting their lives on the line for our cause.  I have complete faith in them."

Sirius stared down at the floor and placed his hands on his hips with a long drawn out sigh.  "What about what just happened on the field?  If that charm Lily put on Harry is to protect him from Voldemort, why is it working to keep Salazar from him as well?"

Dumbledore pulled on his beard.  "I really don't know.  They're no way related."

"I think I might have an idea," Snape said, stepping forward.  He glared at Sirius and Harry had the feeling he was just daring him to say something that could give him an excuse to use a hex.

"What is your assumption, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, looking very interested, his bushy white eyebrows lifting.

"It may be the cause of a potion," Snape began.  He glanced over at LeSal who only averted his eyes.  "A potion Voldemort made him take a long time ago, back when we were still…his...followers."

"Continue," Dumbledore coaxed gently when Snape had stopped.

"I made it," Snape said directly.  "The Dark Lo…Lord Voldemort ordered me to.  It was a modification of one of the first potions that he had taken in his quest to become immortal."

Dumbledore looked slightly confused.  Harry wondered himself why Voldemort would want to give one of his supporters immortality.

"The staff was killing him," Snape explained further.  "As you probably know, a mage's staff can only truly be used by a select few, sometimes with certain skills or bloodlines."

"This staff was carried by Merlin and many in his lineage, including Godric Gryffindor and Madigan Maolflynn," LeSal added solemnly.  "Many have tried to use it and I admit that I should not have it, but it was not by my choice.  When Voldemort hands you something, you don't tell him: thanks, but no thanks."  He let out a long sigh.  "Grindelwald was one who tried to use it, but it helped lead to his downfall."

"That it did," Dumbledore agreed then he said in a darker tone, "Voldemort is too smart to take it.  He stole it, but waited for someone who he could use to carry it for him."

"And that was, yours truly," LeSal said with a great deal of bitter sarcasm.  He turned the staff over in his good hand and stared into the stone somberly.  It was just faintly glowing so that Harry couldn't quite make out the exact color.  "My mother," he said, his voice tight.  "Offered me to Voldemort while I was still a baby.  I was raised for the purpose of carrying this infernal stick."

Watching LeSal's expression, Harry suddenly felt very sorry for him.  He couldn't imagine having such a weight placed upon his shoulders.  It was just plain cruel.  Yet another life wrecked by Voldemort.

"Of course, the chances were that he would fail.  That the staff would be too much for him," Snape continued.  "But he held on well for some time.  Then after a few months, we knew something was wrong."

"I was still fifteen, but I looked twenty," LeSal recounted.

"So Voldemort ordered me to concoct a potion to stop his aging," said Snape, and to Harry, he seemed to be fighting back some horrible memory.  "And so I did…Voldemort gave me some of his own blood to use."

Professor LeSal curled his lip into an amused sneer.  "Jolly good blood brother," he mumbled.

"That's probably what caused him to have that reaction against Harry," Snape finished.

It made sense and Dumbledore went and sat at his desk.  He'd probably pull out the pensieve when they had left, Harry thought.

Harry felt relieved yet disturbed at the same time.  At once he decided that he had been so very wrong for doubting LeSal's loyalty.  He no doubt hated Voldemort for what he had done to him.  But then what about the Longbottoms?  Perhaps there was an answer to that.  

Maybe, just maybe, he hated Voldemort so much that he was willing to stop at nothing to finally end him.  He seemed to go through an incredible amount of agony in his fight.  This new revelation left no doubt that Professor Salazar Snape was on their side.  That much could be trusted.  But did this make him less dangerous?


	9. Oh, Fudge!

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

Summary: One of the Snapes gets drunk, and a trip to Hogsmeade spells out trouble.

Chapter IX

Oh, Fudge!

"Malfoy!"  Ron exclaimed.  "I cannot believe he did that to you."

"Did any of the professors do anything?"  Harry had been so overwhelmed by all that he had found out, that he had completely forgotten how he had gotten into that whole mess to begin with.  Ron reminded him that night at dinner.

"McGonagall gave him detention with Filch for a month."

"He should have been expelled," Hermione pointed out.  "He could have killed you, Harry."

"Harry thought about it.  With all that happened, he found it hard to think about Malfoy at the moment.  It seemed almost too petty.  "LeSal was hurt pretty bad," said Harry at last.  "And it was Malfoy's fault that he had to catch me.  I don't think LeSal is going to let him get away with all that."

Hermione had forced Ron not to ask about what had happened unless Harry offered to give the information first.  However, he was so eager to know, that he blurted out.  "What happened with Professor LeSal?  Why did your scar hurt around him?  He's not another Quirrel, is he?"

Angrily, Hermione tugged on Ron's sleeve and hissed something in his ear.

Harry was about to explain, but there were too many people around.  "I'll explain it to you tonight," he promised.

The awkward silence that followed in which they all just chewed their food was gratefully broken by Fred and George:  "We're going to get him for you, Harry," they said together, pushing Neville aside as they attempted to sit closer.

Harry guessed what they were talking about.  "As much as I'd like to see Malfoy get creamed, I don't want you getting into too much trouble.  It's your last year and I don't think your mum or dad would appreciate you getting expelled."

"What?"  They stared at him, dumbfounded.  Students were already leaving the table and Harry was about to leave too but they just pulled him back down in his seat.  "What's with you, Potter?  We're offering to take revenge on Malfoy and you're just worried about us getting into trouble?  Were you badly hurt out there?  Bump your head, maybe?"

"No, I didn't bump my head," Harry said irritably.  His head did hurt.  The event had caused him to have quite a severe headache.  "I just think that you ought to sit back and wait to see what LeSal does to him first before you get yourselves into trouble," he explained.

"Ah, yes," George said, slapping his hand down on his knee.  "I remember.  How could I forget?  He mentioned corporal punishment."

"Still sounds too good for Malfoy," Fred put in.

Harry was not in the mood and he stood up once again.

"Okay, Harry.  We'll see, but what if he doesn't do anything?"

Harry let out a sigh.  "Do what you want.  But I've got a headache and need to see Madam Pompfrey."

*          *          *

On Monday morning, Harry's head was clearer and the students had lost much of their interest in what had happened that Saturday.  Ron had gone back to avoiding Harry like the plague and seemed to be even more cantankerous as they approached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

The door was closed and the class stood waiting in the hall.

"We didn't have a test today?" said Hermione, frantically thinking of another reason to explain why the other class would still be in the room.

"Hush!"

They looked over and saw a handful of students with their ears against the door.  Harry immediately ran to join them.  "What's up?"

"There's only one student in there, and the prof is chewing him out."

Harry found a spot to place his ear and to his delight, he believed that he heard Malfoy's voice, but LeSal continued before he could be sure,  "Do you ever _think?_  Do you ever stop and consider the consequences of your actions?"

"But you don't know how much Potter gets away with!"  It was Malfoy.

"We're not talking about him!  It's you that you need to concern yourself with at this moment."

"My father…"

"Your father, your father…oh, grow up."  The Gryffindors at the door had to stifle their sniggers.  "I think you're old enough now, Draco, that you can stop hiding behind your father's cloak.  Besides, you should consider your father.  Do you think that it is wise for you to be causing trouble right now?  You may bring your father to Dumbledore's attention by threatening Harry.  Did you ever think about that?"

There was no response to this.  Harry held his breath, waiting for Draco to say something, but he remained silent.  Then his heart skipped a beat as he thought about Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan listening there with him.  He wondered if they understood what was just said.

"Whoa," Dean whispered, "I hope that his father is called before Dumbledore.  Maybe Malfoy will get expelled."

Harry felt relieved.  While he wouldn't mind seeing Lucius Malfoy getting bagged for being a Death Eater, he thought that it might become dangerously complicated if Gryffindor students became involved.

A few more words were exchanged but LeSal and Malfoy had lowered their voices to the point that he couldn't make out what was being said.  Harry backed away before the door opened.  When Malfoy walked past, he took notice of him, and gave Harry a look of complete and utter loathing.

*          *          *

Knowing that Malfoy was in hot water, gave Harry a spring to his step, and he felt the need to do something to celebrate—also something that would help him to put the incident on the Quidditch field behind him.  He could think of nothing better than a trip to Hogsmeade.  Unfortunately, with Ron still angry with him, he wouldn't have his company on the trip so he decided to ask Hermione.

"Is there a trip to Hogsmeade scheduled?" she was quick to ask when he invited her to come along.

"Well…no," he began slowly.

"Now's not the time to sneak out, Harry."  She puckered up her lips into that reprimanding scowl that Harry was truly beginning to hate.

"Then you can stay here with Ron," he stated before she could say more.  "And I'll just ask Neville."

"Ask me what?"

Harry hadn't realized that Neville was seated at a table close by, chewing on the end of his quill while staring hopelessly down at some astronomy figures.  "Whether you'd like to make a trip to Hogsmeade this evening."

Neville dropped his quill.  "You mean that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Of course.  I want you to come with."  And he said in a hushed tone, "We'll be going underneath my invisibility cloak."

Neville's eyes widened at this, but then he looked disappointed.  "So we're going to be going over there when we're not supposed to?"

"But we won't get caught."  Harry was starting to get a little angry.

Neville opened his mouth but quickly shut it.  He was clearly struggling with what to do.  The mere idea that Harry Potter had asked _him_ to come on a forbidden trip to Hogsmead underneath an invisibility cloak was a terrible temptation.  His conscience was clearly outmatched. "Sure, Harry.  I'd love to come."  And with that, he slammed his book shut.

"_Neville_…" Hermione began but Neville gave her a severe look as he went to put his books away.

*          *          *

It wasn't long before Harry bean to rethink his decision to have Neville accompany him, and Hermione had insisted that she come along in case they ran into trouble.  They had decided to go through the tunnel by the Whomping Willow so as to make a concealed entrance by way of the Shrieking Shack.  However, as they hurried across the lawn under the cloak, Neville slipped on the wet grass, nearly giving them away.  Hermione's little shriek at this didn't help any, either.

Harry decided to stop first at Zonko's joke shop, then they shuffled off to replenish their supply of candy.  As they wandered over to the Three Broomsticks, Neville pulled them back.  Harry and Hermione jumped.

"You see someone?"  They had taken off the invisibility cloak in order to make their purchases.

"No, look."

They looked over to a poster that Neville was pointing at.

"Too bad Ron's not here."

Harry frowned at the thought.  Ron was being so stupid in his mind that he deserved to miss this.

The bright orange poster had little Quidditch players darting back and forth across the words:

Come see the amazing CHUDLEY CANNONS!

Vs. the SUFFOLK STEAMERS

Here in Hogsmeade the 16th November.

Game held on Hogsmeade field.

Tickets start at 10sickles.

"We'll have to tell Ron when we get back," Hermione stated, taking a bite out of a caramel apple.

Harry turned away from the poster.  "I'm freezing out here.  How about a butterbeer?" and he headed toward the Three Broomsticks.

The three of them plopped down at a table off in the corner where they could see the door, just in case one of the professors decided to stop by.

"I didn't think Hogwarts students were visiting today."  Madam Rosmerta had stopped by, and she eyed them suspiciously.

"They're not," Harry said simply, "but some of the fifth years are taking a break from studying so hard for the O.W.L.S."

This sounded reasonable enough.  "Well then, in that case, what shall I get for you?"

They ordered three butterbeers and a plate of chips with ketchup then sat happily enjoying the afternoon.  Hermione, though, seem slightly perturbed that Harry had lied so easily.

From somewhere in the back, someone started playing a fiddle.  The music was appreciated until some wizards, who had evidently had a little too much to nip, began singing along out of tune—and loud.  Harry had to stifle a laugh at the words of a song about a Quidditch player from Dublin who could only catch a snitch after some whiskey, but Hermione only rolled her eyes.

"I can't believe them," Madam Rosmerta mumbled while clearing away some glasses.  "That sort of behavior could be expected at the Hog's Head, but not at the Three Broomsticks!  And no shame at all—Hogwarts professors!"  She stormed off leaving the three of them curious to find out whom the singers were.

_"There was an old wizard,_

_Who flew through a blizzard,_

_On only a Cleansweep Two."_

One wizard sang out loudly, not realizing that the fiddle had stopped playing and no one was singing with him.

_"He was carried in frozen,_

_But they couldn't get his nose in,_

_And so his days were through!_

_Alas, poor Higgety Moorhonk!_

_Who had the biggest conk that England's ever seen!_

_And he was so very crass,_

_Though the weather kicked his…"_

At once, the singer was interrupted.  Harry and Hermione were staring at one another while Neville had sunk lower in his seat.

"Ohhhh…shining sickles!" Harry whispered.  For the singer was clearly recognized to be the voice of LeSal and the one that followed, that of Snape.

"Hello Minister.  Forgive Salazar, he normally does not get this careless, but he hasn't been well…"

"Severus, don't make excuses for me," LeSal snapped.  "You know what?  It's a good thing you showed up here, Cornelius, because I've had a mind to tell you…No, Sev, I'm going to say it…"

Carefully, Harry peered over the barrier between his booth to see a table in the opposite corner of the room where LeSal stood facing Fudge and Snape was attempting to coax him back into his seat.  By the way he was teetering, it didn't seem that LeSal was sober enough to take any advice.

"I hate you, Cornelius," LeSal spat, "I think you're a blundering, incompetent, pompous…"  At this, Snape grabbed him firmly by the shoulder but LeSal managed to grab the table with one hand and to wave his staff with the other, making Severus back off.  "And I challenge you to a wizards' duel."  When he stated this, he let go of the table to point at Fudge, but it caused him to teeter backwards, and he nearly fell into Snape's lap.

Snape immediately grabbed a hold of him and began to usher him out the door.  "As I said, Minister, he is not well.  I'm going to take him back."  He said this with more than a hint of anger and Harry was glad at the moment that he was not Professor LeSal or Cornelius Fudge.  Fudge seemed to catch onto Snape's mood and said nothing more.  Instead, he looked around for a seat.  As he approached where Harry, Hermione, and Neville sat, Harry thought it best to grab the invisibility cloak.

"Ah, Mr. Potter."  Too late.  "Fancy meeting you here."

"Actually, I was just preparing to leave," Harry sputtered.  "I've got loads of homework to do."

"I just need a quick word," and he blocked Harry's exit, scooting into the booth next to him, trapping him there.

"I'd rather not talk without Dumbledore."

Fudge snorted.  "Listen, Harry.  Dumbledore's had his day when he brought down Grindelwald.  He's gotten too jumpy, seeing dark wizards behind every hedge."

"Voldemort's back."

Cringing at Harry's choice of words, Fudge then turned slightly red.  "No he's not.  We've got no proof."

"Cedric's death wasn't enough?"  Harry wanted away from Fudge.  It occurred to him that he had not brought his wand.  A very dumb move.

This seemed to make Fudge's face turn an even deeper shade of red.  "We have no proof that You-Know-Who killed Amos Diggory's son."

"Yes we do.  I was there when Voldemort used the _Avada Kedavra_ curse on him!" he made a point of using Voldemort's name.  It caused many in the room to look nervously in their direction.

"You lie.  That's why I need to take you in.  Get you away from Dumbledore's influence."

"You're not going to take Harry anywhere," Hermione said warningly, and Harry took notice that she had not forgotten her wand.

"You two better be running along," Fudge said to Hermione and Neville.  "Harry will only be away for a short time."

"I am not."

"Now Harry, don't make this difficult," and Fudge pulled out his wand.

He couldn't believe what was happening.  Hermione had her wand held out under the table and by the look on her face, was attempting to sort out what spell to use.

"I told you I left it here!"  LeSal's voice broke the silence.  He seemed somewhat more steady, but by the tone and volume of his voice, he still wasn't sober.  Snape followed in after him.

Fudge was watching and had lowered his wand.

Harry was agonizing over what to do.  He was frightened of Fudge and had a bad feeling about what awaited him at the Ministry.  On the other hand, what would Snape do if he saw him here in Hogsmeade without permission?

Discretely, he handed Hermione the invisibility cloak.  "You and Neville get out of here.  This looks like it may get sticky and I don't want you two in trouble on account of me."

He didn't need to tell her all of that, for as soon as he handed her the cloak, she nudged Neville.  "Well, Mr. Fudge, I think Neville and I will be leaving."

Fudge didn't even acknowledge them as they snuck out.  The Snapes had his full attention.

LeSal had snatched up a leather satchel that he had left in the booth.  Snape looked impatient.

"Severus, are you sure you don't want to try what left of my port of…"  LeSal had turned around, holding up a glass but spotted something that made him drop it.  "Oh no you don't!" he growled, and he stormed over to where Harry and Fudge sat.  "Harry, Fudge isn't trying to get you to go to the ministry, is he?"

Snape had followed over, given Harry one nasty look but then turned his attention to Fudge.

"Shut up, Salazar, you're drunk," Fudge snapped.

"That I may be," LeSal agreed, "but I could never drink enough to make me forget the 'questioning' you gave Severus when you took him to the Ministry."

"I said shut up."

LeSal turned to Snape.  "He's trying to take Harry to the Ministry.  I say we take him out behind the Hog's Head and…"

But Snape would have none of it and gave LeSal a look that said to be quiet more than any words could ever do. "Mr. Potter," Snape said in a very soft but not to be reckoned with tone.  "Come here."

Harry didn't delay for a minute and quickly slid out of the booth and went to stand behind the Snapes, but Professor Snape had turned and was guiding LeSal out the door.  Harry followed and left without a word being spoken.


	10. Pranks and Punishment

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

Summary: Harry's been caught, and he must pay.  Dungbombs!

Chapter X

Pranks and Punishment

"Just what were you doing in Hogsmeade, Mr. Potter?"  Snape's icy tone cut down Harry's spine.  These were the first words that were spoken since leaving the Three Broomsticks and they had already made their way halfway back to the school.  "You seem to have a habit of disobeying rules and showing up in Hogsmeade a lot more that you ought to."

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled.

"You sure will be," Snape growled.  "I don't think you realize exactly how much trouble you are in."

"Awe, lay off him, Sev," LeSal said loudly.  "Like you never broke the rules when you were his age," and he snorted a laugh.  "Why, I can remember when you and Rosier took those dungbombs…"

But Harry didn't to hear the rest of the story, for Snape rudely interrupted, "I don't want you speaking, Salazar.  You're not…well."

LeSal rolled his eyes.  "I know…" and he leaned on Snape's shoulder.  "But it's Friday."  This did not appear to be a good idea.  Harry held his breath as Snape stopped and curled his lip at his cousin.  Tactfully, LeSal backed off but then looking into Snape's face, stated plainly, "I like Fridays."

LeSal then turned toward Harry as Snape accomplished an even higher look of disgust to which LeSal mockingly copied so that Harry could see.  "You know, he wasn't always this bad," he said in a hushed tone.  "Sure he was bad, but he's gotten much worse.  I don't blame him, really, but we've both been through rough weather and I've figured out how not to make everyone around me miserable, but he just refuses to try.  He's just built up these great stone walls around himself, and he won't let anyone in."  He shook his head and sighed.

"You ought to get him to drink some of whatever you had," Harry dared to suggest in a whisper.

"No," LeSal said slightly louder, "it doesn't work that way.  I find that if someone is depressed when they begin to drink, they will only become more so.  So I daresay it would be a horrible idea.  Besides, he refuses to touch the stuff."  He then leaned over and confessed quietly, "But I did manage in getting him drunk once.  He went down into the basement and played with his potions.  Came up with a formula he had been trying to duplicate for months, but by morning, had forgotten how he'd done it.  Sulked about it for weeks afterward, and ever since, he doesn't touch a drop."

At this, Snape, with a horrible look on his face, turned and pointed his wand at his cousin.  "_Petrificus Totalus_," he muttered under his breath.  This completely ruined the chance of any further conversation as LeSal was rendered completely immobile, including his jaw.  "And this is a very good reason why you shouldn't drink too much," Severus said bitterly to his cousin.  "Any fool would be able to deflect the spell I just cast on you.  And an invaluable lesson for you too, Mr. Potter."  Harry wanted to shrink away.  "A good wizard _never_ should allow himself to be put in such a situation as to be made vulnerable.  Such as being under the influence of alcohol or sneaking off to Hogsmeade when one knows he shouldn't be there."

Severus was using the same charm to move LeSal and his staff that had been used on him two years before when Sirius had succeeded in knocking him out.  This brought to mind how Snape had actually wanted Sirius to get the Dementor's kiss.  Harry ceased to be scared now, but became angry.

"Oh, will you stop always trying to bully me!  You'll just have to take me to Dumbledore and he'll have the final say, not you.  And you can stop threatening me with expulsion.  Fred and George have done more than sneak off to Hogsmeade, and as LeSal said before you so conveniently shut him up, you did some things against the rules yourself." Harry was almost taken aback by his own outburst and quickly began to wonder how far he'd get up the school lawn before Snape drew out his wand.

"So you think that makes everything okay?" said Snape in a silky tone.  Unexpectedly, he grabbed Harry by his collar and stuck his nose right up to where it was almost touching his own.  "Listen here, Potter.  I've had to put up with a lot in the past five years.  Had to put up a lot with your father too.  You're just as cocky as he was.  You've been pushing my buttons just asking for trouble.  If you had only the faintest idea of what I'm capable of doing…"

Harry couldn't believe he was interrupting Snape, "In fact, I do.  I know you used to be a Death Eater.  All your friends were too.  Most of them are dead now, killed by Aurors."  He was staring right into those black, tunnel-like eyes.  "So you're always saying how much I'm like my father.  Well, it's a good thing, for I'd hate to be like you."

Snape let go.  For a moment, he even looked lost for words.  "You haven't the faintest clue to my past," he said at last.

"I know more than you think." Snape glowered over at LeSal.  "And not just from your cousin," Harry added.

"Dumbledore will hear of your insubordinate, disrespectful, attitude," was all that Snape could come up with.

*          *          *

Dumbledore did hear all that Snape said.  LeSal had been sent off to his apartment to recuperate, so there was no support that Harry could hope for.  Snape had been talking for some time before Dumbledore put up his hand.

"I can't work this out for you," he said to both Snape and Harry.  "Now what I do have to attend to is the that you, Harry, went to Hogsmeade, left the school grounds, without permission."

"I really am sorry, Professor," Harry began sincerely.  "But after all that has happened this past week.  I just feel so cooped up.  I just…"

"I understand.  And it is hard," Dumbledore said sympathetically.  "But the fact remains, you broke some major rules.  I would also think that after what has been happening, you would be more cautious."

This made Harry feel awful, and it showed in his tone of voice.  "It won't happen again.  I really am sorry."

"I know you are.  However, being sorry is only half of the consequences.  The other, unfortunately, is a hundred points from Gryffindor."  Harry looked startled at this but Dumbledore continued talking, not giving him the chance to dispute it.  "The other thing is that I want you to try and work on this problem that you and Professor Snape seem to be having."  Harry had been thinking that the hundred points from his house was going to be the worst part of all this, but now he had the sneaking suspicion that it wasn't.  "Severus, you told me that you were going to start a thorough cleaning and sorting of the potions store room, were you not?"  No, not the worst, not by a long shot.

There was a hint of dread evident in Snape's voice as he answered that he was.

"Good.  Then I'm assigning Harry to help you.  He'll serve detention with you until it is completed.  Though remember that he still needs to make it to Quidditch practices, right Harry?"

Harry nodded, glad that Dumbledore had made this point.

"Very well.  And one more thing," Dumbledore added, making both Harry and Snape cringe.  "Harry, you are not to leave school grounds without a professor being present."

"Yes, Headmaster," and Harry turned to leave, but then remembered something, "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"The Chudley Cannons are playing the Suffolk Steamers in a week at the Hogsmeade field."

"Oh, that should be fun."  Dumbledore looked pleased.  "I suppose that you'll have to see the game then?"

"I would like to.  And I know some other students who would too."

"Dumbledore nodded.  "Severus…"

Snape clenched his jaw and seemed to be trying to bore holes in the wall with his eyes.

"As I remember, you used to play Quidditch?"

He didn't seem too happy at having to admit this in front of Harry.

"I'll put you in charge of coordinating a group to see the game.  You can have your cousin's help."

"May I say something?"  Snape looked to be sweating under the collar.  "I don't think I'm the best choice…"

"Of course you are.  You used to _love_ Quidditch.  Go have fun."  Then he said more seriously, "And I want you to go because I have complete faith in your ability to keep the students safe.  Especially if Fudge should have occasion to try and spirit Harry away again."

*          *          *

Wednesday morning, they all marched from Professor Trelawney's tower across the Hogwarts lawn, lightly crusted with frost, to Care of Magical Creatures.  Harry pulled his scarf up over his nose and most of the students had the hoods on their capes up over their heads.

They were expecting a new "project" and were slightly nervous about it since they had not taken the chance to find out what it was before.  Harry looked over at the crowd of Slytherins approaching from across the field.  They were unusually pleasant looking, talking and babbling to each other in a rather friendly manner.

"What's he doing here?" Ron snorted.

Harry took a second look and noticed that in the thick of the pack was Professor LeSal.  He did not have his staff with him and without it, he seemed to blend in with the crowd of students around him.  Especially since Crabb and Goyle were walking close at hand and were about the same height.  Instead of his staff, LeSal carried what looked to be a large saddle, covered in a dark, course fur.  Over his other arm, he had slung an ornate silver bridle.  Draco Malfoy was at his side, carrying a second saddle and bridle.  Some of the boys were staring at him rather jealously.  The girls on the other hand, seemed to be much more interested in LeSal.

"Do you think I could have a chance to ride one of them, Professor?" asked Pansy Parkinson in a sweet tone that Harry thought completely impossible of her.

"Probably not today, Pansy, but perhaps later," Professor LeSal replied.

"How about if I stayed after class?" she persisted.

"No, Pansy," Draco informed with an heir of importance.  "I'm going riding with the professor after class."

"He seems to doing much better," Ron commented harshly.

"Ron, are you still angry at Professor LeSal for lending that Firebolt to Dennis Creevey?" said Hermione.  Harry looked over and noticed that LeSal's right hand was still heavily wrapped in gauze.

Hagrid had come around from behind his hut and stood by the Gryffindor students as LeSal approached with the Slytherins.

"Well I don't feel too sorry for him right now," Neville grumbled.

Harry whirled around, somewhat surprised at the comment.

"Look at him," Neville explained.  "He fits right in with that group."

"He does, doesn't he?" Ron added thoughtfully.

The group of Slytherins all quieted as they approached closer and returned to glaring at their Gryffindor classmates.  Hagrid stepped forward.

"Uh, good morning, Professor Snape," he said rather plainly.

LeSal gave a fake smile and turned to a student at his side, "Vincent, will you please take this for me?" he handed the fur-covered saddle to Crabb who seemed to take it with a certain reverence into his large hands.

"Ready to begin?" said LeSal in a soft voice to Hagrid.

Hagrid drew in a long sigh then smiled over at the Gryffindor students.  "Yes…uh, Professor Snape is gonna help me with the next unit.  I don't bother too much with the beasts he's going to teach you 'bout, but he happens to be quite partial to 'em."

"I will be teaching you how to handle and care for Magus Mares," Professor LeSal broke in.  "Can anyone tell me what exactly a Magus Mare is?"

As usual, Hermione put her hand in the air while Ron and Harry wished that they had completed the assigned reading.  By now, they should have learned to do the suggested reading before they started a new unit in Hagrid's class.  It seemed, however, that they weren't going to have to worry too much.  Magus Mares?  Didn't sound too dangerous.  A big clue was the fact that Hagrid was not going to be handling them.  Well, Hermione would tell them what they needed to know.

"Yes, Agatha," LeSal called out, pointing to a raised hand.

The Gryffindors were all dumbfounded to hear a different name called upon than Hermione.  Harry looked over to see that most of the Slytherin girls were lowering their hands disappointed.

"A Magus Mare," Millicent began importantly, "is a horse with higher intelligence than a normal horse that possesses magical powers."

"They're companions for wizards, especially in earlier times when they could be taken out among the Muggles without question," Pansy Parkinson added.  Harry swore she was actually blushing.

"And some have unicorn blood," said Mandy Brockelhurst.

"Very good," LeSal commented, and the girls smiled.

"Are you seeing this?" Ron said gaping.

"It's disgusting," Hermione grumped.

"They're falling all over him," Harry finally said.

Hermione nodded.  "Poor LeSal."

"That's interesting that you should point out that some have unicorn blood, because some do.  Magus Mares aren't all mares, which is a female horse. They can be male or female, however most are mares.  And sometimes—but mind you, it's rare a Magus Mare stallion pairs with a unicorn mare.  Can anyone tell me what can happen if this occurs?"

Hermione didn't even bother to raise her hand and they listened, amazingly enough, to Draco Malfoy's answer, "A dark unicorn."

"Precisely," and LeSal patted Malfoy approvingly on the shoulder.  "And if you ever discover about a dark unicorn, distinctive with a black coat and twisted horn, it should be reported immediately to the Ministry of Magic.  They are highly dangerous and illegal.  Only a wizard with a firm grasp of the Dark Arts can earn their respect."

"So that's why Malfoy was able to answer the question," Ron whispered to Hermione.  "His old man's probably got one."

Harry had to agree.

"So I want you all to remember that for your Defense Against the Dark Arts exams as well."

Professor LeSal then proceeded to catch one of the mares that were being held in the pen and had Draco saddle it up as he spoke.  "Now I want you to pay close attention.  The Magus Mares are much like Hippogriffs in that you must earn their respect before you ride one, though they won't claw you to death if you happen to upset one."

"That must be comforting for Malfoy," someone in the Gryffindor crow whispered and giggles passed around.

"Always make sure that their back is free of dirt before you put on the saddle, and it is generally good to groom them before you ride so that you can strike up an understanding.  They will be giving you a ride on their back so you should do something for them in return.  You'll notice with the bridle, there is no bit…" LeSal continued to explain about the tack and the intricacies of riding.  "Now I'll let Draco demonstrate to you all."  He nodded, and Malfoy swung himself easily into the saddle.  He grinned down at LeSal.  The first true smile, not laced with a smirk, that Harry had ever seen cross his face in his four and a half years at Hogwarts.

"When sitting, keep your heels down and your back straight and it will be easiest for you to stay in the saddle.  Now it is a good idea to give her a pat and a kind word in her ear before starting out, or else she may just decide not to give you a ride and just throw you right off."  LeSal turned to Malfoy.  "You can take her out and ride around a bit, but nothing over a trot."  Then turning back to the students, "You start by asking them verbally or with a nudge of your legs—never a kick.  

"Now the most important thing about the Magus Mare, is their ability to conduct magic.  While on one, your spells are given more power—even more so with a unicorn, though it is rare when a unicorn, or half unicorn will allow you on its back.  They also stay with you if you use a port key or Apparate.  Now, Draco!"  he exclaimed, "Don't crack your head open trying to show off."

"Please do," Ron mumbled.

Malfoy had just jumped the mare over a stack of firewood.

It wasn't long before class was over.  Harry wanted to stay behind and visit with Hagrid, but he was assigned to help Snape with the potions storeroom for an hour before lunch.  On his way back to the castle, Malfoy nearly ran him over as he continued to tear around the school lawn on the back of the Magus Mare.

*          *          *

That hour in the dungeon seemed to take forever to pass.  Snape would turn around every now and then to snarl at Harry for not carrying a certain grotesque jar with enough care. Then, when he would slow down to show he was being more careful, he'd be reprimanded for taking his time.

"We haven't got all day, Potter."

"No, no, no.  Don't you know your alphabet?  Quag-grease goes _before_ Rats' Teeth!"

Snape was about to bark some new order when he looked up to see Dumbledore standing in the room.  Harry hadn't seen him come in and was beginning to wonder if he could Apparate within the walls of the school.

"Severus, I need you in the teachers' lounge.  I have an important announcement to make to the staff.  If you could find Argus, that would be helpful.  I believe that he's down here somewhere at the moment."  Dumbledore looked very depressed.  "And Harry, you can go on up to the Great Hall.  I'll be making an announcement during lunch."

Harry was alarmed and by the look of it, Snape was too.  "We haven't…lost anyone, have we?"  Snape asked quietly.

"No.  This isn't about Voldemort," and with nothing more, he left.

*          *          *

Harry was snacking on some grape tomatoes when Hermione and Ron arrived.

"So how did it go?" Hermione dared to ask.

"Horrible, as expected.  But I got out early.  Something's up with the professors.  Don't know what though."

Food appeared and still the head table remained empty.  Time passed and their plates cleared, ready for dessert, when Dumbledore, followed by the staff, filed out.  The students had sensed the dark atmosphere and the hall fell silent.

"My dear students," Dumbledore began.  "As you know, we've been on guard against Voldemort for some time."  They all seemed to hold their breath.  "I and your professors have been at odds with the Ministry of Magic in this matter.  Up until now, it has not greatly affected us.

"This morning, I was informed by the Minister of Magic, that I was relieved of my post as Headmaster."

"No," many gasped together, and there was clearly discontent reverberating around the room.

"However," Dumbledore continued.  "Your wonderful professors refused to continue teaching if I stepped down.  As a result, I am being forced to remain.  Understandably, the Ministry has become extremely upset and severed all funds to Hogwarts." He paused for a moment as the staff all stood up around him.  He then continued, "I thought I would inform you of the circumstances and make you all aware of the great sacrifices that your professors are making as they will now be continuing to work without pay.  We will also not have the ability to continue with some of the extracurricular programs.  Things will get tight, but we'll be working hard in order to see to it that you are all able to continue attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

After this, there was an applause then Fred and George stood up and said, "Let's hear it for our professors!"  And there was an even louder applause.

Dumbledore smiled and sat down before the hall returned to a dull roar of voices.

 "When did you guys slip in?" Ron asked his brothers who seemed to be beaming from ear to ear, clearly putting what Dumbledore had just said behind them and moving on to more of their sort of important things.

"We just came from the kitchens," Fred informed.

"Paid a visit to Dobby."

"Do you know he used to work for the Malfoys?"

"Anyway, he hates Draco."  George took a sip of his pumpkin juice.

"Despises him," Fred added.  "But of course, you could expect that."

"So he agreed to help us."  George slammed his empty goblet on the table.

"Help you with what?" Harry asked warily.

The twins just grinned.  "You'll see."

"Now's not the time…" Harry said slowly.  "After what Dumbledore just said…"

"Ah, it's perfect timing.  Let all the professors know that some things will remain the same.  Besides, as they say, laughter is the best medicine."

They immediately swiveled around to look at the Slytherin table.  Dessert had appeared.  At once, Harry recognized the yellow pastries.

"You didn't!"

Fred beamed.  "Yup."

Intently, they watched as Draco picked up his pastry—and bit into it.

There was a startled cry that went up from the Slytherin table then some chirping that made the whole hall turn their attention to where Draco sat, or where—more precisely, an overgrown canary was perched.  The bird popped quickly back into a boy who was already high tailing it for the door, leaving a trail of yellow feathers and roaring laughter in the wake of his hasty retreat.


	11. The Death Curse

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

Chapter XI

The Death Curse

Ron was ecstatic when he found out about the Chudley Cannons playing in Hogsmeade.  All the students seemed to be. Except there seemed to be one thing that spoiled the mood:  that was that their chaperone was to be Professor Snape.

"I wonder why Dumbledore would choose Old Snape to take us on a trip to Hogsmeade.  He'll spoil it," Ron grumbled.

Harry believed the same, but he had to agree that he would rather have Snape between him and a Death Eater than Sprout or Flitwick.  "I think it's because he wants us to be safe," he reasoned while flipping through a page of _Extracting Yourself from an Acromantula's Web and Other Sticky Situations._

Ron just snorted.  "Then why not McGonagall?"  He started to scratch his parchment with a quill pen, but then stopped.  "Say, I know.  It's you, isn't it?"

"Me?"

"Yes.  It's because of you.  If it weren't for you, we might have someone else."

"Ron, that's enough."  Hermione looked flustered.  "I'm sick and tired of how you've been acting.  You try and start up an argument at every turn.  Now stop it."

"So you're against me now, too?  Well that's just bloody fine.  Be all chummy with Harry and leave me out of everything.  No one ever thinks about me.  At home, it's Percy and Bill and Charlie and here, it's Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.  Nobody ever stops and thinks about Ron until I complain and then I'm told to shut my trap.  Well, fine."  He slammed his books shut and huffed up the spiral staircase.

All those in the common room who had been within earshot watched Ron leave then looked over Harry.

"Ron!"  Hermione suddenly bolted up from the table.  She ran across Dean Thomas coming down the stairs.

"Excuse me, Hermione, but you can't go up there.  Those are the boys'…"

"Just watch me," Hermione declared, pushing Dean aside.

Harry couldn't hear anymore after that, and he thought it best not to follow.  It wasn't until an hour had passed and it was time for Quidditch practice that he ventured upstairs to get his robes and put away his books.  When he came to his room, Ron and Hermione were both seated on one of the beds, talking.  They both hushed up when Harry entered.  Quietly, he put his books away and once he grabbed his robes, he turned to both of them, "The whole common room is chattering, Hermione.  You should probably come down soon."

At this, they both grinned.  "What were they saying?"  Their grins turned into giggles.

Harry had to smile, and he scratched his head.

"Look, Harry.  Hermione was nice enough knock me aside the head and point out what a dunderhead I have been.  I'm sorry."  Ron screwed up his face into a sincere pleading look.  "I suppose I just get tired of always have to be in someone's shadow."

Harry looked down at his Quidditch robes.  "Ron, I really wanted to have you on the team but…"

"I know."  Ron punched him lightly on the shoulder.  "It wouldn't be fair.  Besides, Fred and George promised to train me to become a beater, and personally, I'd rather be a beater over a keeper any day."

Harry felt a wave of relief sweep over him.  Ron was speaking to him again.

"So you still coming to see the Chudley Cannons tomorrow?"

"I thought you were too angry about Snape coming," Harry pointed out.

"I am."  Ron said firmly, but then put on his familiar grin.  "But I'd be hornswoggled if I let that git ruin a Chudley game.  I know, we can sit behind him and throw cockroach clusters at his head."

*          *          *

"You are all to stay together.  Anyone caught wandering off will immediately lose twenty points from their house."  Snape pointed his long nose at Fred and George.

They both grinned, put a hand over their heart and spoke solemnly, "You needn't worry about us, Professor."

Snape didn't seem too convinced, and neither did Harry, for that matter.

One good thing was that Professor LeSal had come along, and he seemed just as excited about the game as the students, though he appeared to be more of a hindrance to his cousin than help.  They were all seated in the bleachers, waiting for the game to begin, Snape looking sour and LeSal munching from a bag of candy.

"Dumbledore must be angry at Snape to make him come out here," Ron thought aloud.

"No."  Harry realized that he had never shared a certain bit of information.  "He told him to come because Snape used to play Quidditch."

"What?  Snape used to play _Quidditch?"  Fred and George had overheard.  Ron and Hermione both looked shocked as well._

"You've got to be kidding." Ron glanced over at Snape, looking baffled.

"Yup, he was on the Slytherin team, of course.  Him and LeSal were beaters."

George laughed.  "I can definitely see LeSal—but Snape?"

"Hey, Weasley!"

Their attention was diverted to Draco Malfoy, sitting comfortably amongst a group of Slytherins seated by Professor LeSal.

"What is it, Canary—oops, I mean Ferret, oh no.  I've seem to forgotten your name," Fred called back.

Draco turned very red at this.  "Watch it you.  And I was speaking to your little brother…"

He was about to say more when Snape called out, "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, for starting an argument."

LeSal stopped munching from the bag of candy, an expression crossing his face that clearly showed that he saw the injustice that was just dealt.  "I forgot to thank you, Dennis," he called out, "for helping me clean out the broom shed last week.  I'm adding five points to Gryffindor."

Snape turned around at this, looking startled and then angry.  The Slytherins seated around him appeared the same.  LeSal took notice that he was suddenly, for the moment, unpopular among those nearest him.

"Fizzing Wizzbies?" he offered, presenting the bag of candy to Snape.  He offered it around to Draco and others nearby when Snape only curled his lip at the bag and faced the other way.

"I still don't know what to think of him," Hermione admitted quietly.  "Like how he hangs around the Slytherins yet lends a Firebolt to Dennis Creevey.  It was never determined to be jinxed, was it?"

"No," Harry shook his head.

Their attention was shortly turned toward the game as the players entered the field.  Ron and Harry shot up from their seats, waving little orange flags.

There were decidedly more fans for the Cannons than the Steamers, whose colors were grey.  Small grey flags waved as a smoking steam engine raced around the field then disappeared.  Next, a team of Magus Mares rolled out a cannon onto the field while Fred and George began a loud and humorous chant that actually caught the attention of one of the beaters who grinned and gave them a thumbs-up.

The booming voice of an announcer proclaimed the game had begun and the chest containing the balls was unlatched.

Harry nudged Ron as the beaters began to fly after the bludgers.  "I want you to watch them.  Learn some moves you can use next year."

*          *          *

The game was going well for the Chudley Cannons who were leading by seventy points after the first half hour.  Harry had been swapping tips for beaters with Ron when a strange sensation crept over him.  It started out as just goose bumps on the back of his neck and along his arms. Then it started:  the deathly chill he feared so much.

Dementors.

Clearly, they weren't close. Not yet.  No one else seemed to be affected, but he knew what it was.  The game had been blocked out of his mind, and he focused over to where the Snapes sat.  They evidently realized something wasn't right either:  LeSal had climbed up to the top of the bleachers and was scanning out past the blissfully ignorant crowd.  Snape had remained seated, but was no longer watching the game.  Harry wondered if they knew it was a Dementor.

Shakily, he stood up and headed over to Professor Snape, receiving odd looks from his peers.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

But Harry didn't answer.  He had to use all his strength and concentration left to wee his way through the crowded bleachers. Snape took notice that he was approaching, and instead of the unpleasant look Harry had become accustomed to, he actually looked worried.

"Professor," Harry gasped.  The cold was getting stronger and was beginning to constrict his throat.

"I know." Snape pulled him down.  "But we'll handle it, Potter.  You stay here."  Harry seemed to confirm what the Snapes feared and Professor Snape stood up and joined LeSal.

"You wouldn't happen to know what's going on?" Harry asked Malfoy.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Malfoy replied, but he didn't sound entirely truthful.  In fact, he looked nervous, something that Harry didn't take to be a good sign.

Harry squirmed in his seat, then held his head.  His scar was beginning to hurt.

His surroundings seemed to have completely vanished: the crowds, the announcer, and the Quidditch players.  Quietly, as if in the distance, he could hear his father's voice.  _Think of something happy, he told himself as he fumbled for his wand.  __Ron.  Ron and I are friends again.  And Sirius and Lupin are back.  I'll see them when this is over and tell them all about the game._

This helped a little. Enough that he could focus on what was going on around him.  There were screams, but they began to dim.

"Harry, Harry!" Someone was shaking him.  "We've got to go."  It was Hermione.

"Potter, _now," said a much deeper voice.  A firm hand grabbed him by the back of the robes and hoisted him up.  "__Enervate," the voice mumbled, and suddenly, Harry found himself staring at chaos._

"Students!" Professor Snape bellowed; he was still gripping Harry's robes.  Strangely, Harry noticed a strong smell coming from Snape's robes and tried to pin point it.  Formaldehyde, yes, that was there, but something else…Malfoy was running around, scared with the rest of the crowd, so he didn't take notice of Harry's predicament.  "All of you are to calm down now and follow Professor LeSal back to the school.  You will only be safe if you stay with us."  

At once, LeSal raised his staff.  The normally soft, blue light grew in brilliance, casting a blue hue over all the students.  It was strangely soothing.  "Now follow me," he ordered while lowering the staff. 

Earl Grey, that is what he smelled:  Earl Grey tea.  Snape dropped him into the crowd of students after he realized this.

Quietly, the students followed, finding that they didn't feel like talking and to panic seemed absurd.  Whatever spell LeSal had cast over them subdued their panic.  Harry knew that Hermione would be looking up the spell as soon as they returned to the school.

LeSal had sought out the head boy and girl, who seemed to be leading the students once they gout out of Hogsmeade.  Evidently, he was going to stay behind and help Professor Snape get out of whatever trouble would be heading his way.

Harry was following at the rear of the crowd when he was struck with another bout of pain.  He immediately brought his hand to the scar and fell to his knees.

"Oh, no. Not again!" Ron and Hermione began to pull on him.

But this wasn't the chill of the Dementors.  This was the burning of his scar.  LeSal noticed immediately.

"Miss Granger, you and Mr. Weasley get back to the school and get to Dumbledore.  Tell him that we've got a problem… though I don't think the Death Eaters have been summoned… I'm not quite sure what's going on."

"But what about Harry?" Hermione demanded to know.

"You just concentrate on getting to Dumbledore.  I'll see to Harry." Professor LeSal then knelt down before Harry while Hermione and Ron took out running toward the school.

At first, all that Harry noticed was that the pain began to recede.  A soft, cooling sensation came to him, as if someone had put a cool, wet, rag to his forehead.  He opened his eyes to see a deep blue, almost purple glow.

"That better?"

He looked into LeSal's black eyes—they were so much like Snape's, it was uncanny.

"I need you to get up, if you can."  LeSal was being very careful not to touch him, though Harry could tell that he wanted to help.  So he nodded and slowly rose to his feet on his own, almost falling backwards; he was still so unsteady.

"Now, I'm going to need you to go back…" but LeSal didn't get to finish his sentence.  Instead, he had stopped to look down the road.  Snape was running as hard as he could toward them.

"What's Potter still doing here?" he demanded while trying to catch his breath.

"His scar was hurting him," LeSal informed.

Snape's eyes widened.  For a moment, he even looked afraid, but it quickly disappeared.  "He's not supposed to be here," he said this looking back toward the village, evidently, not meaning Harry.

"I know, and I still don't think he is.  I would have known—unless…he's onto us."

At this, they both looked nervous.  It got Harry feeling _very afraid.  He wanted to return to the safety of Hogwarts __now._

"Can he cut you off?" Snape asked importantly.

Harry wondered at what he meant as LeSal shook his head.  "I'm pretty sure he can't, especially after that last concoction he served up for me."

"Then can you tell if it's him?"

Harry found his own breath to be too loud as LeSal silently stared down at the dirt road.  His eyes seemed to be looking deeper, not merely at the dirt, but into some unseen place.  After what seemed like hours, he snapped out of his quiet trance.

"No, he's not here.  But yet…" he trailed off and looked toward town again.  "I sent some students to fetch Dumbledore," he said in a whisper.

"Harry," Snape said softly, while looking off into the opposite direction of his cousin, keeping an eye out should some Dementors—or who knows what, appear.  "See those barrels over there?  I need you to hide behind them."

At first, Harry was taken aback by the fact that Snape had addressed him by his first name, but he wasted no time in following his advice and scuttled behind the barrels.

No sooner had he situated himself in hiding, than he felt the familiar chill pass through his body once again.  He peered through two barrels to see that the Snapes were both facing toward the town, tense and ready.   Their acute sense of the Dementors had to be admired, and he was actually relieved that Dumbledore had sent the Snapes in place of some other professors.

They appeared silently, sweeping over the ground as a dark shadow.  Their clammy grey hands poking out from under their heavy black robes.  Harry couldn't stand it.  He wanted so badly to conjure up a Patronus and make them go away.  He didn't understand why the Snapes just stood there, waiting, as the Dementors kept coming.

"Do something," he whispered as yet again the cold swept through him.

Just when it seemed to become unbearable, he watched as LeSal stepped forward.  He planted his staff firmly on the ground before him, and it began to glow.  As the light became brighter, the coldness that had settled itself inside Harry began to diminish; the purple light seemed to have the power to melt away the iciness.

For a brief time, the Dementors stopped, seemingly puzzled at what was before them, but it did not take them long to move forward again.  LeSal threw a glance that Harry read as asking permission to do something.  Snape nodded once and LeSal again faced forward.  Slowly, the stone in his staff, while still holding the brilliant light, faded from purple, to blue, to green.  He then took a brave step forward.

"I am Salazar Snape, servant to Lord Voldemort, keeper of the Staff of Orkney, and I order you to turn back now."

They stopped abruptly at this.  It was becoming difficult for Harry to discern what exactly was happening, for when the light of the staff had gone green, the cold had returned with full force and seemed to be tearing through his insides.  He wanted so much to watch, but he bent over his knees and began to fight the urge to pass out.  The Snapes would know how to handle a regiment of Dementors and he would gladly allow them to tackle the task without him.

Salazar's speech also had a cold effect.  To hear the way in which he called out his position in Voldemort's closest circle made Harry think of the circle of Death Eaters that had stood around him, hanging over like a pack of vultures, ready to watch him die.  He had to remind himself that he knew where Salazar's loyalties lay—with Dumbldeore.  Yet, he still found him to be quite frightening.  His whole countenance had taken on the resemblance of one of the stone gargoyles that sat perched on some of the highest points of the Hogwart's Castle.  He looked less the Hogwarts Professor and more the frozen hearted Death Eater.

However, he did not seem to intimidate the Dementors to obey as they began to glide forward once again.

"Who is controlling them?" LeSal exclaimed as he retreated to Severus' side.

"Where's Albus?" Snape replied nastily.

"I don't know, but I say that we take care them _now." LeSal sounded very firm._

Without another word, they both looked behind them, most likely one last hope to see if Dumbledore was on his way, and Snape raised his wand while LeSal held up his staff.

Harry strained to see, eager to see what Patronus Professor Snape would create.  And not only that, but he wondered at what happy thought Snape could use to bring about a strong enough Patronus to banish so many Dementors.  However, that is not what he got to see.

Snape took one last glance over his shoulder then him and LeSal grasped each other's free hand and held it up.

"_Trucido Incendium," came Snape's voice, loud and clear in such a tone that Harry felt like shirking back as far as he could behind the barrels._

At once, there was a blinding flash of light.  It came both from Snape's wand and the stone in LeSal's staff then combined into one great stream of green light.  The Dementors crouched and made a harrowing sound unlike anything Harry could imagine.  If it was possible for them to do so, it seemed like a scream of sheer terror, a scream that disappeared as the light became so bright that Harry had to turn away.

When the light dimmed and faded away, the chill from the Dementors had left as well.  Cautiously, Harry peered around a barrel.  What he saw, strangled the breath from his throat.

Where the Dementors had stood now wafted smoke from piles of smoldering ash.  Harry had always wondered what type of curses might lie in the screaming book he picked up his first year while in the restricted section, and he had a strong feeling that the one that the Snapes had just used might be one of them along with the three Unforgivable Curses.  He began to wonder what Dumbledore's reaction to this would be, but he didn't get the chance to ponder it for too long: a large hand unexpectedly reached out and pulled him out from the barrels.  Before he could do anything, there was a wand to his throat.

"Cornelius Fudge!  What are you doing?"

"Quite impressive, I must say," his voice was trembling and Harry could feel that the Minister was physically shaking, as he couldn't keep his wand steady.  "I never thought it possible to get rid of so many Dementors at once.  I must say, you two are formidable.  I only wish that I knew where your loyalties lay."

The way the two Snapes were approaching it reminded Harry of the slither of a pair of cobras.

"Our loyalties, Fudge?  I was just about to question yours," Snape said calmly.

"I thought it was just a ruse; your spying for Dumbledore; a way to cover your backside like all the other Death Eaters.  You two were too power hungry not to follow Lord Voldemort."

"So what is it you're trying to do?" Snape asked warily.

"What am _I trying to do?" Fudge chortled insidiously.  "I'm the Minister of Magic, what else do you think I'm doing but trying to keep the Ministry afloat!"_

"And how do you propose to do that, now that you've broken from Dumbledore?" LeSal challenged, continuing to step forward.

"I know what I'm doing—that's far enough.  A step closer and the boy gets a good strong curse."

"What do you plan to do with Mr. Potter?" Snape asked.  He was holding his wand down at his side, but his knuckles were white from clenching it.

"This boy is a peace offering," Fudge explained.

"A peace offering?" LeSal exclaimed in such a tone that his voice squeaked on the last syllable.

"Lord Voldemort's going to win, no doubt about that."  Fudge began to speak quickly, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice.  "And if he's to come to power, there's no reason why the Ministry can't continue under him.  Sure things will change, but I'm willing to cooperate."

"You're mad.  Utterly mad."  LeSal's staff began to glow a bright green.  "Lord Voldemort won't be persuaded with a _peace offering."_

"I'm warning you," and Fudge jammed his wand deeper into Harry's throat.  "I'm going to take Mr. Potter here to Lord Voldemort himself.  He'll see I'm willing to cooperate."

At this, Harry felt his heart jump, but looking over at Professor LeSal and Professor Snape, he knew that they weren't about to let this happen.  He just began to worry about what tactic they may use to stop Fudge.

Fudge meanwhile, began to back up around the building.  He seemed to be inching toward a bucket: a portkey, no doubt.  Quietly, Harry began to damn the Dementors for making him so weak.  He felt physically helpless at the moment, unable to break free from Fudge's grasp.

Snape seemed to have had quite enough. "_Expilliarmus," he muttered, raising his wand quickly._

There was a flash of red light, but Fudge successfully blocked it.  "Maybe I'll turn in two nasty little finks while I'm at it," he swore furiously, and he reached out with his foot for the bucket.  "Harry Potter _and the uncovering of two spies.  That'll be quite a gift."_

It was difficult to know exactly what happened next, but there was a flash of green light directed at Fudge, who instinctively pushed Harry in front of it.

Pain immediately ripped through him.  Harry had felt this once before and had never wanted to experience it again.  Despite Fudge's attempts to hold him up, he sank to the ground from the effects of the _Cruciates _curse_._

"Damnit!" LeSal screamed, and the pain left as quickly as it came, leaving only a dull throbbing in its place.

"Salazar, stop!" Harry heard Snape yell, but it was too late.  There was a second flash of green light, a soft thump on the ground nearby, and silence.

Carefully, Harry rolled over and found himself staring into Fudge's blank, staring eyes.  He was pale and still—just like Cedric Diggory that night in the graveyard.

A/N: Raven Dancer, you'll probably notice that Snape's robes smelled like Earl Grey.  Yes, I did get that from one of yours.  It seemed fitting, but so did the Formaldehyde.  J


	12. The Minister of Magic

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

Chapter XII

The Minister of Magic

All Harry could do was stare down at the cold and stiff body of the Minister of Magic.  Though LeSal had not spoken the words, he knew what spell had been cast.

"What have I done?   What have I _done_?"

Looking up, Harry immediately watched Professor LeSal.  He had dropped his staff in the dirt and looked as if he were about to rip his hair out.  Professor Snape solemnly drifted over to where Fudge lay and lightly tapped his wand on the Minister's pale forehead.  Not seeing what he wanted, but what he certainly expected, Snape drew a hand over Fudge's eyes before looking over at Harry.

The after-effects of the _Cruciates Curse_ still lingered and Harry's whole body ached.  He also felt like he had been hit with a mallet where his scar stood on his forehead.

"Are you all right?" Snape asked, but there was no emotion in the question, seemingly little concern, he might as well have been asking what the uses of a boomslang skin were.

Harry knew that he looked a fright, so he nodded and replied, "I'll be fine."  He found his voice shaky.

Snape gave a terse nod then rose to his feet.  LeSal cringed under his stare.

"I'm so sorry.  Oh, Severus—I didn't mean to… You know that I've been trying."  He slid down and plopped himself in the dust, staring pathetically over at Fudge's corpse.  "I didn't…" His whole face looked tortured.  "And Harry—I meant no…"  Both him and Snape had glanced over toward the school, spotting an approaching figure with a tell-tale white beard.  "Oh, no…"

Snape was standing rigid to the spot, but he stepped closer to his cousin who looked about to start crying at any moment.

It took a while for Dumbledore to say anything.  At first, he walked over to the pile of ashes and stared long and hard at them before he turned and faced the Snapes.  That's when he spotted the prostrate figure of Cornelius Fudge.

One could have heard the whisperings of a grass faerie, the air had become so deadly muffled.  Dumbledore just seemed to stare, unbelieving.  His whole face took on a deeply saddened expression.

Finally, LeSal broke the uneasy silence, "I—I—didn't intend to…"

Dumbledore put his hand up for quiet.  He still hadn't taken his eyes off Fudge.

Harry decided to try and look less pitiful and attempted to get to his feet, but soon found his legs to be plagued with little earthquakes, and he fell over.  This gained Dumbledore's attention, and he focused next on Harry.  His expression quickly transformed from depression to one of anger.  His normally glittering eyes flashed fiercely at LeSal.

"What happened here?" The question was simple, yet so very cold.

LeSal's face turned ashen.  He looked down at his empty hands, looking ready to sob into them.  "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Two." This made LeSal jump.  "Not one, but two Unforgivable Curses." Dumbledore was furious.  

LeSal looked up into Dumbledore's accusing eyes, clearly trying to decide if there was anything he could possibly say to lessen the anger.  Not knowing why, Harry felt the need to say something, even as Dumbledore turned to Professor Snape, "And I'm sure that you were partly responsible for that, Severus," and Dumbledore pointed to the piles of smoldering ash.  His finger was shaking.

Finally Harry gathered the courage to speak.  He knew that there was no chance of Snape ever saying anything to help _him_ get out of a detention, but then again, the Snapes weren't in trouble for some meager school rule infraction.  "They saved my life."  Dumbledore turned and stared down at him, so did both Professors LeSal and Snape.  "Fudge was going to hand me over to Voldemort.  Professor Snape tried to stop him, but it didn't work.  They had to do what they did."

This succeeded in making Dumbledore look less angry, but he now looked sorely disappointed.  "There are so many alternatives to the Unforgivable Curses, Harry," Dumbledore informed quietly.  "A wizard has no excuse for using them—that is why they are unforgivable."  He turned back to LeSal who had stood up.

His shoulders were slumped over, and he looked resigned to his fate: a short future in Azkaban.  Harry wondered if Azkaban was still holding prisoners and if the Dementors were still there or had just become ash in a flash before him.  But LeSal didn't look at all himself.  With his hair falling down and his sagging posture, he looked like a broken man.

"Take my staff, Dumbledore," he said softly.  "I don't deserve to do magic ever again."

At this, Professor Snape looked shocked and then shot Dumbledore a readable imploring look.  Remembering what Hermione had said about wizards attached to a Mage's Staff, Harry realized that this was also a death wish on the part of LeSal.

Dumbledore let out a long, drawn out breath.  "No, you shouldn't, not after this.  But…you keep your staff—for now."

LeSal looked down at the staff but didn't pick it up.  "I've shown that I can't handle it," he argued.

Dumbledore drew his wand and with it, levitated the staff and kept it hovering until LeSal took a hold of it.  The stone had gone back to blue.

"Darkness," said Dumbledore, "is easily invited into one's heart, but it is not so easy to make it leave.  It takes a lot of strength and perseverance to rid oneself of evil, and even when one thinks he is winning the battle, the darkness can reappear.  It is a tenacious foe."

While Dumbedore said this, LeSal had been staring down at the dirt.  He understood and in return, mumbled softly, "But I haven't the strength to fight it anymore."

Dumbledore retuned to the wise, fatherly tone Harry had become so accustomed to.  "I seem to remember a boy that attended school here more that sixteen years back, I believe.  Was placed in Slytherin, and came up with nasty little pranks to impress his peers and hide what I saw inside of him.  He had so much spirit in him and seemed so afraid to let it show.  It saddened me, because I saw that he was surrounded by those who already had one foot on the dark side.  I had hoped that he would listen to his heart—for despite what he showed to others, he had a good heart.  He used to come to my office in tears from worry about his aunt and uncle who had taken him in.  I remember the day after they were killed by Aurors, when he came to see me, wondering what he might do to keep his older cousin, whom he so admired, from suffering the same fate."

Harry then saw something that he never thought he'd ever see.  Professor Snape was looking downward with a truly hurt expression set on his face.  Now he understood what LeSal had meant that day about Snape's "advice."  

"When he had left to follow the Dark Arts, that was one of the most disappointing moments in my career at Hogwarts.  I still hoped he would come back.  That he hadn't lost all the potential I had seen in him."

Dumbledore stopped talking and LeSal could not bring himself to look at him.  He leaned heavily on his staff and stared into the stone.

Realizing that the Snapes most likely didn't want to hear more, Dumbledore said simply, "I don't want to accept that that boy has become another casualty of Lord Voldemort, and I'm not ready to give up on him if you're not.  However, where Fudge is concerned, it will be up to the new Minister of Magic to decide what to do.  Until then, Severus will take over your classes, and you're not to perform any magic without consent of I or Severus."

*          *          *

Christmas approached quickly, and it was far more difficult to be merry this year.  Evidently, some of the professors were feeling the pressure of having no pay.  

There were many who worried about the students; that the parents would withdraw their children from the school, but amazingly, few did.  It seemed that they knew Lord Voldemort was on the prowl and felt their children to be safest at Hogwarts.  This was proven by the fact that many students signed on to stay over the holidays.  Surprisingly, many of the Slytherins stayed as well, though their reasons were probably different, as Harry heard Malfoy put it, their parents would be "busy" this season.

Despite the gloomy atmosphere, something joyful did happen the week before Christmas.

A lively game of Snapdragon had been started in the Great Hall.  Hermione had enchanted a bowl full of sugared dates to hover over them and had it produce flames around the outer edge.  Fred seemed to have collected the most dates and was declared the winner until Lee Jordan pointed out that he had used an anti-burn charm on his hand and wrist, then the game began all over again.  Ron seemed to be in the lead when they heard a large number of voices nearing the hall.

"After the discovery of Fudge's true intentions, we decided to review the decision to remove you from your post," it was Mr. Weasley.  "I, of course, decided to turn to the board of governors."

"We weren't given all the facts," an unknown witch was speaking.  "And Fudge wasn't giving us the freedom we normally have."

"I questioned him about it, but he wouldn't budge.  Unfortunately, I now know what his agenda was."  Harry immediately recognized Percy's voice.

Soon he saw that it was in fact him, for the group moved into the hall.  The game had stopped and they stood staring.  There was Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape, and facing them were Percy, a witch in a green dress and old, dusty witch's hat with a vulture glued on, two wizards whom Harry had never seen, and Arthur Weasley, who looked worn and exhausted with dark circles under his eyes.

"In times like these, I know how important our children's education is, so one of the first things I did was appoint some new governors who were willing to take on such a task in times like these.  So we now have Percy, who is now the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mrs. Longbottom, and Mr. Robert Fletchly on the board of governors."  Dumbledore seemed very pleased at what Mr. Weasley was saying.

"Blimey," George whispered.

"I see it," Fred whispered back.

"What?" Ron and Harry asked in unison.

"What dad is wearing on his robes."

Ron's mouth seemed to drop to the floor and his eyes brightened.  Harry spotted the silver badge and recognized it to be like the one Fudge always wore. 

"They made dad the Minister?"

"They made dad the Minister of Magic!"  

Harry didn't think he'd ever seen Ron so excited, and he found himself boiling over with excitement as well.

Mr. Weasley took notice of them and waved.  Ron and the twins went running over.

"They made you the Minister?"  Mr. Weasley encouraged a smile as his sons gathered around bubbling with happiness.

"Ah, I was hoping to surprise you," he said, putting one hand on Fred's shoulder and the other on George.  "I was appointed just this morning.  I can hardly wait to go home."

"I wonder how long it will take mom to notice," Ron said, touching the badge with awe.

Harry watched Dumbledore and McGonagall as the Weasley's laughed and cried with joy.  They were beaming.  They knew that Mr. Weasley's appointment would cause change—good change.  Snape was standing off to the side and while he didn't look thrilled, he didn't look unhappy either.  He thought then about the decision that had to be made concerning LeSal.

*          *          *

Ron, Fred , and George pleaded to go home, but Mr. Weasley wouldn't hear of it.  He insisted that they stay within the safe walls of Hogwarts, especially since he was now Minister of Magic and would be drawing attention to the family.

"We get to move into the Minister's house," Ron chattered at breakfast on Christmas morning.  He had received an owl from his mother and sat reading over it.  "Mum of course, feels bad for Fudge.  He didn't have any family, so they're trying to figure out what to do with all of his things."

When Ron said this, Harry glanced over at the head table.  Snape had just sat down looking especially glum.  LeSal's seat had been empty and remained so.

"So I wonder if they locked that nutter up in Azkaban," Ron snorted.  "After setting that curse on you; I hope he rots."

"Yea, and I heard about that spell he placed on the Dementors," Seamus put in.  "Heard that it wasn't pretty and that Dumbledore was fumin' mad."

"You weren't there," Harry interjected.  Again, he found himself defending the Snapes, and truth be told, he was worried about LeSal.  His plate of bacon and eggs suddenly didn't look too appetizing.

Ron or George or Seamus said something else, but Harry had pushed them from his mind.  He didn't know why, in fact, it seemed like the last thing he'd ever decide to do, but he unexpectedly left his seat and headed for the head table.  Purposefully, he walked up to Snape.  However, once he stood there, whatever force had made him come this far, conveniently went AWOL.

After standing there for a moment, Professor Snape noticed him and turned around, giving him a look as if Harry had just begun to sprout eggplants out his ears.  "Mr. Potter, can I help you?" Snape said this with such a tone that it became clear to Harry that he wanted him to say no and return to his seat.

"Um."  Snape's black eyes seemed to be draining all vocabulary from Harry's mind.  Wildly, he tried to think of what had encouraged him to come forward.  Then Dumbledore saved him.

"Is something the matter, Harry?"

Dumbledore's presence gave him a sudden rush of courage.  "I just wanted to say thank you to Professor Snape and his cousin for saving me from Fudge.  And I was wondering…I was wondering if Professor LeSal would be coming back." He forced out the last part.

Dumbledore gave a slight, warm smile.  "Professor LeSal will be returning.  In fact, he was expected to arrive yesterday."

Professor Snape looked uncomfortable and Harry wished he hadn't thanked him because now Snape was going to have to acknowledge it.

"I was hoping that he was coming back."  Harry then began to back away.

"Mr. Potter."  He stopped.  "You stood up well."  Snape seemed to have a strange twitch going on near his mouth.  "I've been impressed, especially after the events during the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

Harry was stunned.  Dumbledore sent him an encouraging smile from behind Snape's shoulder.

"Thanks," Harry managed, and he hurried to his seat before any more awkward moments could arise.

"What was that all about?" asked Ron as he sat back down.

"I just asked if Professor LeSal was returning."

"And?"

"He may come back today."  He was glad that he wasn't going to have to share what just happened between him and Snape.  Evidently, Ron hadn't noticed it.  He wasn't quite sure he knew what had gone on himself.

They were quiet while they finished their breakfast and were just about to leave when Malfoy walked by.  "No, Goyle.  How many times do I have to tell you?  Now I can see why your father doesn't tell you anything."  Harry's ears perked up, and he momentarily pushed Snape's compliment out of the forefront of his mind.  "My father told me what we have to do at Hogwarts.  We're closest to Dumbledore, after all, and it's pretty pathetic if you've forgotten our duty that the Dark…"

"But I thought that Professors Snape and…"

Malfoy noticed Harry and shut his trap and slapped Goyle to do the same.

"I'll refresh that memory of yours later tonight," he whispered.

An uneasy feeling came and rested upon Harry's shoulders.  "Did you hear that?" he asked Ron.

"Hear what?" Ron had been busy licking bacon grease from his fingers.

"Malfoy."

"What about him?"

"He's up to something."

"Since when wasn't he?"


	13. The Truthstone

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

Summary: Party at Snape's place! Awe, poor Sev…

Chapter XIII

The Truthstone

"We need to find out what Draco was talking about," Hermione said as soon as they returned to the common room.  It was rather empty, most everyone finding something exciting to do before the Christmas feast.

"I'm not taking any more polyjuice potion," Ron stated firmly, kicking off his shoes.

"Oh, we don't have time for that," Hermione assured.  "We need to find another way…"

Ron rolled his eyes at Hermione.

"I'm going," Harry broke in.  "I'm taking my cloak and I'll find a Slytherin and just follow him in."

Ron and Hermione stared, finally, Ron piped up, "What if by the time you get there, he has already spilled the beans?"

"And that's going to be so dangerous, Harry," Hermione pointed out.  "If you were caught in the Slytherin common room…"

Harry had to laugh to himself.  That wasn't exactly what he considered dangerous anymore.

"Do you want me to come with?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head.  "I don't know if the cloak can cover the both of us anymore.  Besides, if I get caught it will be less points taken from our house if only one of us is found."

Plopping himself down in one of the large red armchairs, Ron let out an irritated sigh.  "I don't see why Malfoy continues to go to school here when his father's such a criminal.

Hermione took the other chair while Harry remained standing.  "Well, at least this way we can keep an eye on him."

A hooting noise interrupted their conversation.  An owl had mysteriously appeared before them, holding a letter in its beak.  Ron reached for it, but it hopped out of the way, flying onto the back of his chair and presenting the letter to Harry.

"Suppose it's for you."

"I wonder if it's from Sirius and Lupin," Hermione said excitedly, clapping her hands together.

After thanking the owl with a friendly pat, Harry tore open the envelope:

_Merry Christmas Harry!_

_I thought that you would like to celebrate the holiday with some dear friends.  Meet me in the Great Hall before the feast and I shall take you down to a special gathering._

_Sincerely,_

_Prof. A. Dumbledore_

_P.S.  Miss Granger and Mr. Ronald Weasley are also cordially invited to attend._

*          *          *

Before heading down to the Great Hall, Harry slipped his invisibility cloak into a leather satchel that he slung over his shoulder.  In it, he also placed a present he had picked up for Sirius.

"Ready," he proclaimed as he stepped out into the common room.

"You got the cloak?" both Ron and Hermione asked at once.  As soon as the party was over, Harry hoped to catch some of the Slytherins as they were coming back from the feast.

Neither Ron nor Hermione had been given the chance to enter the staff quarters, and so they both marveled as they stepped through the mirror.

"I don't think even Fred or George know about this," Ron commented excitedly.   Harry could easily see in Ron's eyes how he would love to finally be able to share something with his brothers that they didn't already know.

Dumbledore seemed to see it too and informed nicely, "As you see, this is a great privilege, and I trust that all of you will keep this to yourselves."

Well, at least Ron could know there was something that he knew but that his brothers didn't.

They followed Dumbledore down to the cold, stony corridor where the Snapes lived.  He lifted the knocker once and let if fall, tapping out a tune as he did so.  A minute went by before they heard the lock slide back and Remus Lupin showed his face.  He smiled warmly and opened the door.  The front room looked much the same as when Harry had seen it first, only that Professor LeSal's side had been somewhat tidied up and now collected dust.

"Sirius!" Lupin called back toward the hall.  "Albus is here."

Sirius soon appeared in the doorway.  "So this is our Christmas present!" he exclaimed.  "I knew it was going to be good.  So how are all of you? Ron? Hermione?"

They both grinned broadly and everyone began to join in the middle of the room, passing out hugs.

"Looks like I'll leave you all to a good time…" Dumbledore stopped and clapped his hands and there were suddenly garlands, wreaths, and a blinking Christmas tree and floating candles bringing fresh cheer to the dark and musty apartment.  "Much better," he commented with a satisfied tone.  "Now I must really be going.  I'll be needed in the Great Hall.  I've placed Dobby in charge of seeing to it that some of the feast is brought down here for you all to enjoy, and—Remus, Sirius, is Severus still here?"

            No sooner had he asked this when Professor Snape stepped out wearing a black knit turtleneck and black pants with a worn looking pair of brown house robes thrown haphazardly over it all.  His hair was dripping water onto a green towel he had draped over his shoulders.  He had stopped abruptly at the sight of all the decorations and Gryffindor guests that had invaded his apartment.

"You aren't coming to the Christmas Feast, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape, once he pried his eyes off all the glittering decorations, put on an extremely sour look.  "No, Headmaster.  I had planned on staying here."  He didn't sound too certain now.  "I sent out Bertram to find Salazar and was going to wait here."

"Ah, yes." Dumbledore looked more serious.

Harry wondered who Bertram was but then realized that the blackbird he had seen earlier was missing from its cage.

"Then I'll leave you to stay and you can join in on the festivities here, instead."  Snape clearly flinched as Dumbledore patted him firmly on the back, eyes twinkling.  "Well, I'm off, and have fun."

Harry swore that Dumbledore was laughing as he left.  As soon as the door shut, Snape's eyes darted around the room, briefly landed on each of the five Gryffindors before him, the he turned and retreated back into the recesses of the apartment.

"Awe, looks like he's not going to be joining us for the party," Ron joked.  "Wait a minute.  His hair was wet, wasn't it?  Did he just wash his hair?"

"Shhh, shhh." Lupin was nearly bending over, trying not to laugh, but everyone else was not so successful.  "He'll hear you."

"Oh, let him," Sirius said with a smile and put an arm around Harry and Lupin as they chuckled their way into the dining room.  "This should be a wonderful evening.  Ron, Hermione, come on in."

Harry thought he saw a house elf scuttle by, as they approached the table.  It was heavily laden with ham, goose, turkey, stuffing, potatoes, different sauces, gravies, puddings, along with fruits and vegetable both plain and served up as casseroles.  After ogling at the feast before them, they settled down and began to pass the food around, but before they could bite into the mouth-watering dishes, they noticed that there was an extra place setting.  Neither Sirius nor Lupin picked up a fork as they stared at the empty chair at one end of the table.

"I suppose we should go get him," Lupin ventured.

Sirius didn't look too keen on the idea of fetching the missing party that was at the moment, most likely plodding along like some great shadow, scaring dust bunnies out from under the beds.

Lupin quietly pushed himself away from the table.  "No one deserves to miss dinner on Christmas." 

With a sigh, Sirius tore his napkin out of his shirt collar and placed it scrunched-up on the table.  "Be right back," he told Harry with a grimace.

"Oh, this ought to be fun," Ron commented as they were left alone.  "Christmas supper with Snape."

"Bet you anything he doesn't come, so don't worry."  Hermione glared at Ron who had bit off some of a turkey leg.  "Though I have to feel somewhat sorry for him.  Do you think anyone even bothers to give Snape a present?"

Ron nearly choked on his food then snorted a laugh.  "I could think of some good things _I'd_ like to give him."

"Oh, please." Hermione rolled her eyes.

Harry found it sad, yet, as Ron whispered some of his thoughts on the perfect gift for Snape, he couldn't help but laugh.

To their surprise, Snape did enter the dining room, though both Lupin and Sirius were doing their part of steering him to his seat.

"How nice of you to join us." Harry couldn't believe Hermione's boldness.  He was almost surprised that Snape didn't snarl and deduct points from Gryffindor.

"Awe no, it's Christmas," Lupin coaxed.  "Not right to have you sitting back in a corner all by yourself during Christmas dinner."

Ron snickered and grabbed his goblet to hide his smirk as Snape threw him a dirty look.  "I have important things to attend to."  The towel was gone off his neck and Snape was trying to look as dignified as possible.

"You were grading papers." Lupin kept a straight face.  "Surely you can put that off for an hour or two."

There was no arguing with that, and together Lupin and Sirius pushed down on his shoulders, forcing the irritable Potions Master into his chair.  As soon as they backed away, however, Snape sprang from his seat as if he'd just sat on a spring.

I'll take some dinner with me," and he reached across the table to gather food and pile it on his plate.

Lupin sadly shook his head.  "Let him.  He'll just spoil it for us if he stays," Sirius said to Lupin, but loud enough for Snape to hear.

Harry couldn't help but find this cruel, making him somewhat angry.  Sure, he hated Professor Snape, but Dumbledore didn't, and any friend of Dumbledore's deserved more respect than Sirius was giving him.  He sorted through his mind for the right thing to say.  Though he couldn't grasp his thoughts and put them in order before Snape snatched up his goblet, he did manage to pull out his wand under the table and mumble the first charm that came to mind.

Snape reached and grabbed the edge of his plate.  It wouldn't budge.

Eyes wide and lips pursed, Snape tried to move the plate again but it seemed determined to remain fixed to the table.  Lupin, upon seeing this, grinned like the Cheshire Cat.  Immediately, Snape turned on him, "You did this?  Undo it _now_, Remus." 

Lupin now began to chuckle.  "I'm not the one, Severus.  I'm just as surprised as you are, though I do believe I see more humor in the situation than you do."

Snape's lip curled and he mocked Lupin before darting his eyes over to Sirius.  However, Sirius returned the stare with a look that immediately conveyed that he had no intent of inviting Snape to stay.

"Perhaps," Harry ventured early, "Dumbledore charmed your plate."

Unfortunately, Snape's accusing stare landed on Harry this time, who was trying very hard to not appear as the cat that ate the bird, and stayed fixed there until he settled himself back into his chair.  When he lowered his eyes, he commenced to stab at the shreds of goose on his plate with his fork.  For a while, no one dared to speak.

Harry, feeling guilty that he had made this happen, grasped at topics, mulling them over, but couldn't seem to think of anything that couldn't in one way or another easily head in the wrong direction and cause someone to be offended.  He started to wish that Sirius hadn't said what he had about Snape. Then maybe he wouldn't have felt bad enough to cast that charm on the plate.  _Why can't you all just get along?_  Harry wanted to scream at them all.  They were all being so _stupid._

"So, Harry," Sirius was the one to break the silence, "how do you like being Quidditch captain?"

_This could go well_, Harry thought.  _And if played right, Snape might even be given the chance to say something that wasn't so horribly snide and cutting._  "It's a lot of work.  I find I have a lot less time between Quidditch and classes to do much of anything else."

"As long as you put your classes before Quidditch," Lupin reminded.

They babbled on about classes for quite a while until Hermione cornered Lupin into talking about some Defense Against the Dark Arts topic.  Luckily, Sirius managed to save Ron and Harry, "You two been staying into trouble I take it?"  Harry recognized a smile he had begun to love.

"Not much.."   Ron was making a volcano out of his mashed potatoes as he spoke.  "But you should have seen what Fred and George did to Draco Malfoy!"  He stopped and looked over at Professor Snape who was idly dipping a tea bag into an earthenware mug.  Momentarily, he lifted his coal-like eyes to show that he had heard then nonchalantly took a sip of his tea without putting anything in it.

  "I had heard of some transfiguration," Sirius noted.

Ron figured that the damage had already been done so he unfolded what happened.

"How do they make those?" Harry asked at the end of the explanation.

"I'm not really certain, but I wish I knew…"

"One of the many transfiguring draughts."  Snape had put his mug down.  Both Harry and Ron turned to stare.  "Many of those annoying gags require the maker to have some rudimentary knowledge of Potions, though I dare say they should go beneath the category of Potions."

Ron poked grimly at his fig pudding, clearly disappointed that Professor Snape had sullied such a fun topic with an academic lecture.  Harry however, decided to take advantage of the fact that Snape had finally spoken, though it had taken him to dessert to do so.  "Did you ever do anything like that when you were at school, Professor?"

Snape appeared to have just swallowed a bug.  He coughed slightly before burrowing his eyes into Harry's.  Quickly, he realized that if Snape had done any such thing, Remus and Lupin had most likely been at the receiving end.

"A few times," Snape unexpectedly replied, wrapping his fingers around his mug, warming them.

Lupin had stopped conversing with Hermione about Yetis and had started to listen in.  He decided to speak up, much to Sirius' chagrin, "Yes, I remember one of those times.  Wasn't happy about it when it happened, but now that I look back at it, you were very clever, Severus, to pull it off."

"What happened?" both Hermione and Harry prodded.

"Well, somehow he managed to infect the cake for the House Cup celebration our fifth year, which was won by Gryffindor, with a delayed engorgement draught that didn't start to take effect until everyone had eaten their fill.  I recall that the nurse had to be dispatched to the scene as many of us couldn't fit through the doors."

Despite himself, Ron snickered.  Admittedly, that had been a perfectly executed prank.

"Rather mean spirited, I'd say," Sirius commented blandly.

"Not as mean as the dangerous prank someone tried to pull on me," Snape returned coldly.  "A simple engorgement charm is far from _deadly_."

Everyone seated at the table could see where this was headed.

"This isn't good," Ron whispered then took another sip from some butter beer he'd been enjoying throughout the meal.

"No it's not," Hermione replied loudly enough so that all could hear.  "They're acting like you and Malfoy."

This seemed to put a stopper on the catastrophe that had been about to boil over, and Lupin added cordially, "Very well put, Hermione.  Very well put," and he chuckled slightly.

Despite Lupin's good humor, Sirius and Snape appeared as if they both were about to grow fangs.  Snape was the fist to break and he threw his napkin on the table and strode away.

"Good riddance!"

"Sirius!" Lupin exclaimed.  "As I said before, you're just as much of a problem as he is."  He looked over into the den where Snape had disappeared and was gathering together some books to take back to his private room.  It was then that a pair of glistening black wings came swooping by.

"Found! Found! Found!" the bird crowed.  Harry leaned over in his chair to see it alight on Professor Snape's arm.  Then he distinctly heard the bird screech out, "Lucius!" and "Says merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas indeed," Snape snarled. 

There was a frantic flapping of wings as the bird was shoved into its cage and moments later, Snape had on a wool cape that swirled in his wake as he stormed from the apartment.

*          *          *

A damper had been put on the party after Snape had left in a huff and the mention of the name Lucius had reminded Harry of what he needed to do.  He became anxious to leave.  After promising to come back before classes started again, he left.

Once in the regular part of the school, Ron and Hermione wished him luck as they headed up the steps and Harry headed down toward the dungeons.  However, he first decided to try his luck and see if Malfoy was still in the Great Hall.  Sure enough, one of the last students left at the Slytherin table were Draco, Crabb, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson.  With the invisibility cloak shrouding him, Harry silently drifted over and seated himself at a spot at the table.  He glanced around briefly, taking in the view from the Slytherin side of the hall.

"Do you think you can get away with that?" Pansy was asking.  She twirled her hair in her hand as she spoke.  "I mean, if you were caught…can they make you forfeit for that?"

"I don't think so." Malfoy's smug look was washed away with a yawn.  "After all, it's not something that takes place on the field, so I don't see how we can be penalized for it."

"Just be careful then," Pansy warned.  "I'd really like to see Slytherin win the Quidditch Cup this year."

Harry wished that he had come in a few minutes sooner.  Now he'd have to be on the lookout for some foul play from the Slytherin team members but wouldn't know when or where.  

Professor McGonagall had stayed, and as it was now time for everyone to clear out, she was urging them to leave.  Carefully, Harry followed.  He couldn't have asked for it be any easier.  Pansy and Malfoy were jawing away, trying to outdo each other by saying what they each got for Christmas, covering up any noise Harry might be making as he stepped along on the cold flagstone floor.

"Mr. Malfoy."  They were nearly to the Slytherin entrance when a dark voice behind them caused them all to stop and turn.  Harry nearly fell over as he scrambled to get out of Snape's way.   "You may all run along to your common room," he said more as an order than a suggestion.  "Except for Mr. Malfoy, whom I need to speak with alone."

Pansy, Crabb, and Goyle all nodded and gladly took off while Malfoy frantically tried to come up with something he had done that Snape would have reason to punish him for.

"Draco." Snape placed a hand on Malfoy's shoulders.  He sounded urgent.  "I need to know if you talked with your mother or father today."

"Yea," Malfoy's eyes scanned Snape's face wildly, trying to read an answer to his question, "Why?"

"I haven't got any word from Salazar other than that he may be at your house."

"Oh, yeah." Malfoy relaxed.  "He's spending Christmas with my mum and dad. Didn't he tell you?"

Harry couldn't read whether Snape was angry or relieved. "No, he didn't say," he said tersely.

"Sorry," then Malfoy brightened, "but my dad got a special gift for him.  Something he's been wanting but is—uh—difficult to find."

Snape's face grew darker.

"And look." Malfoy held up a pendant that Harry hadn't noticed before.  It began to give off a soft, red light.  "Your cousin gave me this.  And wow, it's glowing!  It hasn't done that yet, though he wrote that it would.  He sent it by owl this morning.  Neat, huh? He said it had to do with truth or something another…"

"It's a Truthstone," Snape said simply.  "It glows only when you're in the company of someone you can trust with your life."

"Wicked." He smiled at Snape, eyes glowing with excitement.

"It's quite a valuable gift," Snape commented.

Malfoy rubbed the stone with his thumb then let the pendant fall back down on the chain.  "Would you like to use my owl to contact your cousin, Professor?"

"No thank you."

"Or I could send a note saying that you're coming.  Did you ever get an invitation?"

"Yes I did." Snape looked ready to leave.  "But I had to turn it down.  I have a lot to do, with a new Minister of Magic and…"

"I heard all about what really happened to Fudge.  Too bad the Dementors didn't get Potter," Malfoy interrupted slyly.  "But I can't believe they made that Mr. Weasley the Minister.  Dad's furious.  He's going to have to do something about it.  Which reminds me," Malfoy glanced around and lowered his voice, "father asked if I'd get you to send him an owl.  He wants you to help him with something and I'm pretty sure it has to do with that."

Harry felt a shiver go up his spine.  He wanted to lunge out and strangle Malfoy so badly.

"That's enough." For a moment, Snape looked about ready to strangle Malfoy himself, but he kept his calm demeanor in tact.  "Why don't you return to your common room and enjoy the rest of Christmas?  All right?"

Malfoy nodded.  "I will, professor.  And merry Christmas."  With that, he turned and headed for the spot in the wall where the Slytherin entrance was hidden.  "Basilisk," he said aloud, and the hole in the dungeon wall appeared.  Harry scooted close, ready to follow when Malfoy turned around.  Immediately, the Truthstone began to glow.  He noticed it.  "Strange."  Then he looked up at Snape, smiled one more time, and turned back to his common room.

"Just one moment," Snape said, striding forward.  Harry felt his heart skip a beat and he jumped aside.  "It would be nice if you wrote LeSal a note letting him know that he is wanted back as soon as possible.  And—you can tell your father that I am interested.  I'm afraid to send an owl as I'm right beneath Dumbledore's nose, so it would be better if you did so."

Malfoy's face looked hideously evil.  Harry wanted to punch it in, but he disappeared through the entrance before the temptation became too strong.  Unfortunately, Snape went and stood right before the entrance and Harry suddenly found his plan ruined, as he could only look on hopelessly as it shut.

"Okay, Potter.  Show yourself."

Harry held his breath.  If he stayed really still…maybe, just maybe, he could make Snape think he was mistaken.

Not a chance.

"I know you're there, Potter.  Show yourself or I'll find you myself," and he watched in horror as Snape withdrew his wand from the sleeve of his robes.

Not wanting to risk finding out what spell Snape would use to find him, Harry grudgingly lowered his hood.

Snape looked so satisfied, it was sickening.

A moment passed while Snape seemed to revel in his finding.  Harry could only stare down through his still invisible body.

"You realize," Snape said at last, and Harry braced himself for the venomous scolding that was about to come, "if Draco Malfoy had known that you had made that Truthstone of his glow, he would think it broken." He paused and met Harry's eyes.  "Come with me, Potter."

Compliantly, Harry followed Snape down to his office and seated himself in the same chair he had sat in before while he had been glowered at for flying the Weasley car into the Whomping Willow and for being suspect of sneaking into Hogsmeade and throwing mud at Malfoy.  With all the detentions he had served and now with the organizing of the Potions storeroom, he was beginning to know Snape's office all too well.

"Just what were you doing down by the Slytherin common room in an invisibility cloak, Mr. Potter?"  He was speaking close enough to Harry's face that he could smell the tea on his breath.

"I…um…" Harry was going to have to do some creative thinking.

"The only thing that I could see a Gryffindor down near the Slytherin common room for is if he were planning on entering and causing trouble.  Unless of course, you believe you should be in Slytherin. Would you rather be in Slytherin, Mr. Potter?"  The questions were voiced in the calm and dangerous tone that only Snape could manage.

Violently, Harry shook his head, "no."

"No, you're a Gryffindor. So why were you down by the Slytherin common room, Potter?" His voice had taken on an edge to it.

Harry had to look away from Snape's stare in order to think.  Those eyes just seemed to be able to suck you in and leave you out in the cold.  He wondered if he should tell the truth.  If he did, surely Snape would see the truth that he was trying to do…then again, this was Snape.  No matter what he did, he could expect to be scrubbing cauldrons for a month.  Strangely, he realized he must have set a new record: the only student to have ever received a detention on Christmas.  "Malfoy said something." He was somewhat embarrassed at the high octave in which his answer came out.

"Malfoy said something and that is why you decided to break some major school rules?  What were you planning to do to Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter?"

"Nothing," Harry said quickly.

"Now see here!" Snape sprayed spit and some it landed on Harry's nose and speckled his glasses.  "I've been teaching for near thirteen years.  Don't expect I don't know how your little adolescent minds work.  Now what were you planning on doing, Mr. Potter?"

Harry stared right back and said firmly, "I was going to listen to what he had to say about his 'duty' to his father and Voldemort here at Hogwarts."

Harry saw the reaction immediately.  Snape knew the things Malfoy was capable of saying—he'd just heard it!  As he had hoped, this made Snape back off.  His face fell and his mouth slightly parted.  "What did you say?"

"I overheard him say that his father gave him a duty because he was so close to Dumbledore.  I was going to find out what that was and warn Dumbledore about it."

Slowly, Snape leaned back against his desk and ran a hand over his face.  "You should have come to either Dumbledore or me and let us handle it, Harry."

There he went with the "Harry" again, and he did have a point.  Harry had to agree with that.

"From now on, if you hear anything, you come to one of us.  Understood?"

Harry nodded.  By the sound of Snape's voice, he began to wonder if he was going to be let off easy.

"No I want you to return to your dormitory—and Potter, about what you undoubtedly heard about Mr. Weasley.  I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Ronald or any of his brothers or sister.  I'll see to it that the right people know."  This seeming to be all, Harry grabbed his cloak to leave.  "And one other thing: leave your cloak here."

"What?" The thought of leaving his beloved cloak with Snape startled him.

"Do as I say, Potter, before I decide to start deducting points.  Now get out of here.  And I expect to see you back here the first day of classes, serving out the rest of your detention."

"Yes, sir," and Harry removed his cloak with a bitter sigh and placed it in Snape's hands before slipping out of the Potion's office.


	14. Poisons and Potions

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

Chapter XIV

Poisons and Potions

Classes resumed in January and with them returned homework, Hermione's fears of the O.W.L.s, Professor LeSal, and Harry's detentions with Professor Snape.  His first day back at this, Snape had handed him a parcel that held his invisibility cloak.  Snape made no comment and Harry felt that he dare not ask, though he had a sneaky suspicion that the Professor had not just merely taken it away as punishment.  If he had, he would have surely not returned it so soon.

Everything else seemed to be back to normal, and after Harry finally finished with the Potion's storeroom in February, he decided against asking for any more detentions.  Incredibly, he and Ron managed to stay out of trouble all the way into April.

Still, though the atmosphere seemed so calm, Harry couldn't help but feel this was all a false sense of comfort.  He had stayed true to his word to Snape and had never revealed what he had heard that night to Ron.  Silently, he wished he had never heard that conversation, for he felt alone with his worry, and it was easy to see why.  Nothing had happened since the Chudley Cannon came.  The Daily Prophet had gone to reporting on who was up for the _Witches' Weekly Most Handsome Smile Award_ and minor magical infractions, such as a case involving a muggle woman and an illegal flying carpet.  The woman and her houseguests had unexpectedly found themselves floating near the ceiling during tea.  It was as if Voldemort had suddenly disappeared again. No mysterious murders, no Death Eater raids, no disappearances, nothing.  The only incident remotely stinking of the dark arts was an investigation of the Malfoy Manor, (this had made Ron smile for days), into the possibility of illegal magical items.  The only thing found was a dark unicorn in the stables, and that had caused some stir as the Ministry officials in charge of the animal's destruction were found hit with a potent memory charm and the unicorn was no where to be found.  Unfortunately, Lucius Malfoy had just been forced to pay fines for possession of an illegal and dangerous magical creature and no charges were brought up for the disappearance.

"I need the spring charts for the Northern Hemisphere in by next Friday," Professor Sinistra informed them late Friday night.  

Harry and Ron sleepily agreed as they left the astronomy tower.  For the spring term, they had been given the option to take a half-year course and they had decided on an astronomy course because the idea of sitting in the south tower gazing at stars through a telescope had appealed to them at the time.  Never mind that the exams were held late in the evening.

"She would have to have planned this test for the night before a Quidditch match!" Harry reached behind his spectacles and rubbed his eyes.  It was already midnight.

"Well, at least you can be thankful that that was the only class you had today."

This was true.  Earlier that day, Harry had been selected to help with a Care of Magical Creatures field trip.  Hagrid had taken some of the first years into the Forbidden Forest—which wasn't so bad during the day—but it had definitely managed to deter some of the first years from ever wanting to wander into the Forest again.  He was smiling broadly as he thought how wonderful the day had really been: missing both Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts, which had become unpleasant since Professor LeSal had returned after the holiday acting much as his cousin.  He stopped with Ron before the Fat Lady.

"Snape's a slime ball." The new password still made them snicker.  "Someone evidently had a bad day in Potions," Ron snorted as he jumped through the portrait hole.  Again Harry was glad he had missed that class.  "Though," Ron threw his book bag into a corner, "today we were lucky."

"Lucky?"

"Yea, neither of the Gruesome Twosome bothered to show up." So they had begun to refer to the Snapes. "McGonagall took over for Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions was cancelled.  Quick game of chess before we go to bed?"

A sick feeling lodged itself in Harry's throat and it felt like gillyweed as it slid uncomfortably into his stomach.  Mr. Weasley surfaced in his mind, and he then felt a chill prickle up his spine.  "No, I think I'm going straight to bed—the match tomorrow, you know."

"Right." Ron noticed the sudden change. "You all right, Harry?"

Harry was afraid to say anything.  Afraid that Ron may somehow suspect—he decided to remind him of Snape anyway, "Ron, remember last year—about Snape?"

Ron gave him a bewildered stare before it seemed to click.  "Oh, God.  You don't think he's out with—him and LeSal out—for Dumbledore, I mean?"  There was a large pop from the logs on the fireplace and they both jumped.  It was followed by a loud voice.

"Harry!" George came bounding down the stairs.  "Where have you been?"

"Astronomy exam.  Is something the matter?"

"Horribly," Fred answered.  Soon Dennis Creevey and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team joined him and George.

Harry doubted if the "horribly wrong" situation could rival with what he had just been contemplating. "What?"

"My Firebolt—the one I've been borrowing from Professor LeSal…" Dennis began.

"It's gone," Fred explained hopelessly.

"LeSal took it back?" Harry wouldn't have been surprised.  Professor LeSal had been quite cantankerous.

"No," George said thoughtfully.  "It disappeared during a short practice.  "It was just Dennis, Fred, and me out on the field."

"I leaned it up against the side of the castle, near the locker rooms, then when I turned around, it was gone." Dennis looked desperate.

Suddenly, Harry's mind flashed back to what he had heard Malfoy say to Pansy Parkinson on Christmas.  "Malfoy."

"My thoughts exactly." Both Fred and George looked angry.

"What are we going to do?" Dennis piped up in a wail. "We have to have that back before we play tomorrow."

"Yes, we do," Fred insisted.  "We're up against Ravenclaw.  They've got some excellent chasers this year."

Harry glanced over at Ron.  This was the last thing he wanted to do right now.  His last attempt to enter the Slytherin common room had been a complete disaster and this would mean not only going into the common room, but going into Draco Malfoy's bedroom to take something.  "What do you suppose we do?" Harry hoped someone had a better idea than him.

"We could go to Professor McGonagall," Katy suggested.

"But what if he just told her he didn't have it?" Dennis shot back.  "We'd have to wait for Professor Snape to get back, or well, or from wherever he is, to search, and by then, Malfoy could hide it."

"We need to get it tonight, Harry," Fred urged.

*          *          *

Harry couldn't believe he was attempting this again.  He had insisted on going alone for the same reasons that he had before and also he was afraid what Snape might do if he caught him sneaking out again.

His hope for the Slytherin password to be the same as it was at Christmas was crushed and he stood for a long time in front of the wall.

"Pureblood."

"Mudblood."

"Snakes."

"Hex."

Harry was stumped.  He ran through all the words he could think of that might possibly make a good Slytherin password.  Irritated, he stomped his foot.  "Come on!" He was about to leave.  "I need to get in there or we'll not stand a chance in the Quidditch ma…" 

The wall suddenly opened, revealing the entrance.

"Quidditch?"  Harry couldn't believe it.

Quietly, he slipped into Slytherin territory.  The common room was empty, it being already one in the morning.  This was good, however, because everyone was most likely asleep and it would be easy for him to get the broom and spirit it away—only first he'd have to find Malfoy's room.

There were two doors, one on either side of the fireplace.  Harry chose the left one fist.  There was no spiral staircase, but a long hall lit with torches and lined with paintings and doors.  There was a green carpet running down the length of the hall that muffled his footsteps, which he was glad it did, for he heard a dwarf in one of the paintings stir and grumble lowly, "Who's there?" before he began to snore.

With bated breath, he carefully approached the first door.  Just as he reached for the silver knob, the door sprang open, causing him to sprawl backwards onto the floor.  His cloak slipped down off one of his legs.  The figure that walked out of the door, however, seemed too sleepy to notice and Harry had the chance to get to his feet and reposition his cloak so that he was completely hidden.  Once he had calmed down and his heart rate returned to normal, he focused on whom it was that had passed through the doorway—which led to the water closet, and couldn't believe his luck.

Goyle was lumbering barefoot down the hall wearing a pair of garish, purple flannel pajamas.  Harry hurried after, following him into one of the last doors.

Vincent Crabb was snoring loudly from a nearby bed.  In a bed across the room, there was a boy whom Harry couldn't place, for he had a pillow situated over his head, probably to muffle the snores coming from Crabb and then chorused in by Goyle.  Harry gazed around the circular room with the four poster beds just like his own, only all the upholstery was an emerald green, though the light of the full moon washed much of the color out.  The full moon: it reminded him of Lupin.  He hoped that he had gotten his potion before Snape had taken off.  A wave of guilt swept over him.  There were so many things going on tonight and here he was, breaking rules on account of a Quidditch match.  Then again, this was Malfoy's fault.  He wouldn't be in here if it weren't for him.  That's when he noticed him, asleep in a bed by the window.

On a night table at his bedside, sat a basket of cookies.  Harry read the tag:

_"With love, from your Mother._

XOXOXO" 

Next to it, leaning against the wall, was what he was looking for.  There were two Firebolts and one had golden writing in some Slavic language.  Quickly he grabbed this broom and situated it under his cloak.  It would be best if he left as soon as possible, however, as he looked back over at Malfoy, asleep and completely unaware and unsuspecting—the temptation was too great.

He withdrew his wand and pointed it at Malfoy's throat.  "_Sonorous Hilariousa_." A tiny waft of silver shot out of his wand and melted into Malfoy's neck.  "A cute little squeaky voice will be befitting for Ferret boy." Harry had to stifle a laugh at his own words.  He turned to leave, but then spotted the cookies again.  He tapped the card with his wand.  It now read:

_"With love, from Harry."_

Before he could think of anything else to do, he hurried from the room, satisfied that Malfoy wouldn't dare to rat on him for fear he'd be accused of trying to sabotage a Quidditch match.

Feeling very good about himself, but also realizing he'd only have a few hours before he'd have to get up in the morning, he hurried up from the dungeons.  He kept a stealth eye out for Filch or Mrs. Norris as he ran along the corridors and up onto the main floor.  He was nearing the marble staircase near the front doors when he suddenly slipped.  There had been something wet on the floor and he landed with a grunt onto the stone floor, the Firebolt clattering down beside him.  Heart pounding, he glanced around.  There seemed to be no one about, though strangely, he noticed that the main doors had been left ajar.  Deciding it best to get to bed, he stood up, made sure that he and the Firebolt were well concealed, then noticed that his hands were covered in a dark liquid.  He looked down at the liquid on the floor.

By the light of the torches he could tell that it was blood.

There wasn't a whole lot.  Not like some great puddles he'd seen in some of the movies Dudley would watch, but big dollops that led away from the entrance and down the hall.  A cold eerie chill passed through him.  He now felt like one of those characters in Dudley's movies: the one that was about to get an ax in the head.  _Only they never had an assailant with a magic wand, _Harry thought, _or for that matter, they usually weren't invisible._

His curiosity getting the best of him, he followed the trail of blood to where it led around a corner where he decided to stop.  He could hear someone getting sick and the heavy footfalls of someone laboriously shuffling along.  Slowly, he peered around the corner.

Two black shrouded figures were making their way toward the mirror that led to the staff quarters.  Both looked injured, but one was clearly having the worst time of it and was being supported by the other.  Then Harry noticed that one of the cloaked figures was gripping a mage's staff.  That cloaked figure was using the staff as support as well as being held up by his companion.  Suddenly he stopped and started to throw up again then collapsed to the floor, heaving, before finally lying still.

"Salazar!  Salazar, come on.  We're almost there." It was Snape's voice.  He leaned over the figure lying crumpled on the floor and tore off a skull-like mask.

The Death Eater mask gave Harry the chills but seeing what was underneath did so even more.  LeSal's face had taken on the same complexion as Nearly Headless Nick and was covered with droplets of sweat—then he got a glimpse of Snape's face.

Blood was streaming down his face from a painful looking gash in his left temple.  He had to wipe away a drop that was running into his eye with a hand also covered in blood.  "Damnit, LeSal.  It's not suppose to work this fast." Snape's voice trembled. Desperately, he turned toward the mirror.  "Dumbledore, where are you?"

Harry couldn't stand to watch this any longer.  He dropped the broom and removed his cloak then strode up to Professor Snape, who clearly jumped defensively, his hand on his wand.  He lowered it when he realized that it was Harry and there seemed to be almost a look of relief that swept over his contorted and strained features.  "Potter! What are you…"

"Where's Dumbledore? I'll get him."

Snape looked stunned.  "In the staff's quarters.  Where you'd find the entrance to his office."

With a quick nod, Harry hurried over, jumped through the fame, and went sprinting down the hall.  He had just about reached the gargoyle when he spotted Dumbledore striding toward him.  Harry stopped and tried to catch his breath before speaking but he didn't need to explain.

"They've returned?"  It was more a statement rather than a question.  "How bad off are they?"

"Professor Snape—bleeding bad." Dumbledore had started to hurry back toward the mirror as Harry filled him in.  "Professor LeSal is worse off.  Not bleeding, but unconscious.  Snape seems real worried."  At this, Dumbledore broke into a longer stride.

Harry followed after through the mirror.  When he passed through, Dumbledore was already kneeling down at LeSal's side.

"Severus, what happened?"

"Poison."

Dumbledore glance up, taking in Snape's blood soaked robes.  Harry realized that he must have been wounded elsewhere besides the cut on his head for there was a steady trickle of blood running out of his left sleeve, over his hand, where it then pattered onto the floor.  It was surprising that he hadn't collapsed.  "I'll take him to his room, you work on getting the antidote—and take Harry with you," Dumbledore added as an afterthought.  His voices seemed to have changed after meeting Snape's eyes.

Snape didn't seem to have the resources to object.  He just turned on his heel and headed for the dungeons.

"Harry," Dumbledore said lowly, "make sure he sees to taking care of himself."

Harry nodded before turning to run after Professor Snape.

*          *          *

Snape staggered into the Potions lab.  With a flick of his wand, the torches along the walls blazed, lighting up the cold room.  "Potter, I need you to get a number two cauldron, silver, and place it over a Bunsen on this table."  He smacked his right hand down on the nearest table, and then began to pry off his Death Eater robes.  When Harry returned from the storeroom with the cauldron, Snape had taken out a jar of some clear liquid and a beaker.  With a shaking hand, he poured the liquid from the jar into the beaker then removed a small black flask from his robes and added its contents.  Rapidly, the mixture began to change colors and Snape scribbled down each change on a leaf of paper until it finally became black.

Once the liquid had stopped changing colors, it began to bubble violently and off to the side, Snape wrote: "_Mandrake Extract_."  His writing was horribly messy as he then went down the list of different reactions and wrote down ingredients beside each: "_Quag grease, Hogwarts lily, Narwhale bile…_"  He handed the list to Harry.  "All of this here, quick." Snape's voice was hoarse and before Harry turned away, he caught him grabbing his arm and wincing.

"Professor—you should take care of yourself.  I can't make this—you need to…"

"I can take care of myself, Potter!  Now go get those ingredients."

Without another word, Harry returned to the storeroom.  He snatched up a bowl and began to gather jars.  Those weeks he had spent helping Snape now came to good use, as he knew exactly where everything was.  Also, before he left, he recalled something.  Something came to mind from his first year.  He figured that Snape was in so much pain that he had forgotten to include something so elementary, so he snatched up the jar full of bezoar stones on his way out.

To his relief, Snape was in the process of trying to fix a bandage to his left shoulder, which through a tear in his robes, could be seen to be blackened and oozing blood.  Harry set down the ingredients and scooted around the table.  Cautiously, he reached up and grabbed the end of the bandage, which had been dangling over Snape's back, out of reach.  Snape allowed him to finish wrapping his wound as he started to sort through the ingredients.  The bezoar stones were the first item he threw into the cauldron.

As Snape got to work, all Harry began to do was hand him certain ingredients and measuring devices.  However, Snape's wounds began to slow him down.  At one point, he was attempting to pour Mandrake Extract into a small test tube but his hand was shaking so horribly that hardly any of the liquid was finding its way into the tube.

"Here," Harry grabbed it from him.  "How much?"

"To the half mark." Snape's voice had become so course and weary that Harry was suddenly scared that he'd pass out before the potion was complete.  Despite this, there seemed to be spark of loathing in his eyes.  Harry realized that he was in a dangerous position: in Snape's lab while Snape was rendered rather helpless.  For the rest of the time, Harry focused on precisely following what Snape told him and avoided any eye contact.

The potion took less than a half hour to make, but it seemed as if hours had passed by the time that the simmering concoction was poured into a goblet.  This Snape placed in Harry's hands.  "Take this to Salazar, and be careful not to drop it."

Firmly grasping the goblet in both hands, Harry headed to the door then realized Snape was not coming.  He turned around and evidently the look on his face asked his question.

"I need to take care of myself, Potter," Snape answered. "Now get going!  Don't make me have to try and get that to him."  His words were not to be questioned, and Harry hurried out as quickly as he could.

As soon as he left the Potions lab, the image of LeSal's face flashed in his mind.  He drove his legs to carry him faster, though he had to be careful that he didn't spill any.  Then he remembered a simple charm from Flitwick's class.  Stopping briefly, he withdrew his wand and cast the charm on the lip of the goblet, sealing the potion in.  Afterward, he sprinted down the hall.

He was out of breath by the time he reached Snape's apartment.  When he burst in, panting, through the front door, he heard Dumbledore's voice, "We're back here, Harry."

Harry hurried down the back hall to the only room he hadn't been in before; the one that LeSal and Snape shared.  Dumbledore was seated on the edge of a bed where a deathly pale and hardly breathing LeSal lay.

Harry waved his wand over the goblet to remove the sealing charm before handing it to him.

"How is Professor Snape?" Dumbledore asked as he poured the steaming liquid between LeSal's parted lips.

"He stayed behind to care for his wounds, but he needs Madam Pompfrey."

Dumbledore said nothing in return and only fed the rest of the potion to LeSal before sitting back and looking over at Harry.  "Now all we can do is wait and pray."  He placed the empty goblet on the nightstand and stood up.  "Now come sit with me," and he placed a withered but surprisingly strong hand on Harry's shoulder, leading him over to an antique sofa.

They both sat, watching LeSal for a while before Dumbledore spoke again.  "I suppose that you now have a whole new understanding of Professor Severus Snape?"

Harry looked up into those ancient blue eyes, so full of patience, wisdom, and buried deep: a burning spark.

"I was hoping not to put these two through this again.  Especially Severus.  He's served his time."  There was a pause in which Harry only wished he could hear what thoughts were passing through Dumbledore's mind.  "I believe that I answered you wrong when you inquired something about me your first year here.  In reply to your question of what I saw in the Mirror of Erised?" The corners of Dumbledore's mouth turned slightly upwards from beneath his beard, though to Harry, his eyes looked as if they were about to shed tears.  "I think I can tell you now.  What I see…I see many different people, but always the same thing.  I see bright futures for all the students here at Hogwarts.  I see you, perhaps even the Headmaster here after I'm gone.  I see your friend Ron, happy, with a family, very successful.  I see Draco Malfoy, doing good in the world.  While I said some men have become obsessed with what they see in the mirror, so have I, to some degree.  Seeing that come true to the best of my ability has become my life's work, and anyone willing to help me make it come true, is very important to me, such as Professor Snape who stands in the forefront of the battle to see this dream come true." Dumbledore paused and removed his spectacles.  "Harry, you won't speak about this to anyone?"

"Of course not, professor."  Harry didn't even have to think of his response.

Dumbledore replaced his glasses and focused on Harry. "You must be destined for great things, always winding up in situations such as these.  But it is good.  It's nights like these where you can learn more than you could ever take in during a year of studies.  Though, some lessons we prefer not to learn, such as death and guilt."

"Guilt?" Harry said mildly, watching the faint rise and fall of LeSal's chest then faced back toward Dumbledore.

Dumbledore seemed to take interest in watching LeSal again.  "Severus Snape is one of the proudest men you'll ever meet and not a bad pride, but more an old sense of honor as described in the old days of chivalry."

Immediately, Harry's thoughts strayed to the greasy, black figure looming at the head of a classroom, passing out cutting remarks.  Surely he couldn't be talking about the same man.  All of these things that Dumbledore was saying about the man he hated so much was making him feel awkward.

"You remember when he save your life to pay off a life debt he owed your father?" The question wasn't meant to be answered but Harry nodded.  "It is clear Severus wears his guilt pinned to his heart.  You discovered something of his past last year.  He'll never be able to let go of what he did while in Voldemort's circle.  I don't think any man could, though with Severus, with that sense of honor, it's much harder on him.  It's made him a little bitter over the years."

"A little?" Harry snorted but then regretted it as he caught the pained look Dumbledore gave him.

"I've never told anyone this, and I am certain Severus would never wish me to disclose this, but I believe someone needs to hear it, and that someone is you."  Dumbledore's tone had become extremely grave, almost sad.  "That life debt he owed your father runs a far deeper than the mischief Mssrs. Mooney, Padfoot, Wormtail, and Prongs stirred up that night.  Snape saving your life on the Quidditch field your first year here wasn't the first time he tried to repay that debt.  No, he tried to repay it while your father was still alive.  He had the chance, but it came less than an hour too late."  There was an uncomfortable and anxious feeling in the air, as Harry knew whatever was about to be said might change the way he looked at certain people.

"Severus knew where your parents were staying—they were hiding out as muggles at the time," Dumbledore continued. "The night they were killed, he overheard something Voldemort said that alerted him that their whereabouts had been discovered.  Immediately, he suspected Sirius, believing he had been the Secret Keeper.  His loathing for Sirius made him search for him before alerting your parents.  By the time he gave up on Black and headed for you parents' house, it was too late.

"That night, he was the first one on the scene.  The first to find you."

Harry was stunned.  The words were swirling in his mind, clouded and muddled.

Dumbledore let out a sigh.  "Tonight has me extremely worried, Harry.  You see the outward wounds that Severus received, and no doubt some horrible thing has happened that we will soon hear about.  But I saw a wounding that went much deeper…What I saw in Severus' eyes tonight, I have not seen since the night I found him standing over the bodies of you parents."


	15. Confessions

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

Chapter XV

Confessions

After Dumbledore finished speaking, LeSal stirred.  There had been absolute silence in the room except for the soft ticking of a nearby clock that presently read two thirty.  Briefly, the thought of the upcoming Quidditch match crossed Harry's mind, but he pushed it away.  It seemed so petty now.  It didn't even dare compare with all that had just happened and after what Dumbledore had just confided in him.  He remained seated on the worn sofa, numbed in spirit, as Dumbledore slowly stood and looked over LeSal.

From where he sat, Harry could see that some color had returned to LeSal's face and his breathing was less labored.  Almost methodically, Dumbledore checked over him by merely running his hands over the length of his body, but not touching, merely holding them a few inches away.  Harry wondered at how many times Dumbledore may have done this, looking after the casualties from the previous war with Voldemort and with Grindelwald.  It was a rumored fact that Dumbledore had seen well over a century and a half in his lifetime.  A century and a half afforded a lot of time for battles and struggles of all sorts.  For the first time, it occurred to Harry how little he knew of Dumbledore's past.  Now he wanted to know and wondered at whether the old headmaster would be willing to share some stories sometime over a cup of tea.

"Harry," Dumbledore's voice broke his train of thought, "could you go find Professor Snape and let him know the potion worked and that his cousin is looking much better."

Without thinking, Harry nodded and headed for the door.  Dumbledore grabbed his shoulder.

"Harry," Dumbledore's smile had returned.  "Thank you.  Severus would never admit it, but he needed your help tonight—and of course, Professor LeSal did too.  Thank you."

Harry offered up a weak smile, he was too tired to convey how he really felt, but somehow he knew that Dumbledore would understand.  So without a word, he headed toward the dungeon.

As he neared the Potions lab, he caught an unexpected sound.  It grew louder and more frequent the closer he got: smashing glass.  When he got to where he could peer in, he saw shards of broken glass littering the floor by one wall as bottles, test tubes, and beakers were smashed against the cold, unforgiving stones.

Snape was standing in the center of the room.  He had managed to fix a bandage on his head and his left arm had been made up into a sling. With his good arm, he was snatching up any and every breakable thing within reach and hurling them toward the opposite wall.  For a while, all Harry could do was stare, afraid that if he made his presence known, Snape's anger might turn toward him.  However, Dumbledore had asked him to bring the message to Snape, so gingerly, he stepped into the room.  He paused by the first desk and hoped that Snape wouldn't notice him until he'd calmed down a bit.

Another bottle shattered against the wall.

"Professor Snape?" Harry began, but as soon as he spoke, Snape whirled around, dropping the beaker he had in his hand onto the floor in surprise.  Harry found his words choked off as he eyed Snape's wand hand, which had gone straight to his belt where he had jammed his hemlock wand.  It took Snape a moment to adjust, to see that it was merely a student, then his shoulders slumped and he collapsed into a nearby chair.  His cold, strict demeanor was for the time washed away.  Harry couldn't believe what was revealed to be hiding beneath.  It was disturbing and he wanted to leave the room—yet at the same time, he didn't feel it right to leave him alone.

"Um…Professor Snape, your cousin is doing all right now.  Dumbledore sent me to tell you."

"Thank you, Potter." Snape's voice was dull, broken, and quiet.  "I'll be there in a minute."

Harry understood that he was to leave without another word, but he only got as far as the doorway.

"Harry…"

He turned.  Snape was motioning for him to come back.  He complied and went and stood by the desk Snape was sitting at.  He picked up a crumpled piece of paper and smoothed it out; it was the same paper on which he had jotted down the needed ingredients.  At this close proximity, Harry could see that Snape's usually hard and seemingly unfeeling eyes were watery and red, and by the light of the torches, he could make out a glistening on his cheeks.

"I didn't write the bezoar stones on this list."

Harry's heart skipped a beat.  "I seem to remember that you said it's needed in almost all poison antidotes."

"It is." Snape crumpled up the paper and his voice returned to the domineering Professor Harry was used to. "I'm amazed that some of my lessons have actually stuck in that mind of yours.  In my condition tonight, it didn't cross my mind—I may have forgotten to use it if you hadn't brought it to my attention."

Was that a compliment?  Was Snape actually admitting that he had done something right?  Dazed, Harry once again turned to leave, but again, he was stopped.

"Forgive me," the authoritarian tone again left his voice, "you shouldn't have seen that."  He was taking in the mess of the broken glass.

Harry said the first thing that came to mind, "I won't tell anyone," and he meant it.

Snape let out a rattling sigh.  "Tonight was very hard.  A lot of people died, Harry.  A lot of very good people."

*          *          *

Harry had hoped that Snape would elaborate, but he didn't.  He had just slowly gotten to his feet and headed to the apartment where LeSal lay sleeping under Dumbledore's fatherly vigilance.  Dumbledore immediately instructed Harry to stay there for the night, and he had complied, bedding down on the sofa while Snape and Dumbledore spoke lowly about LeSal's health.

Though he tried desperately to stay awake, he realized he had failed when he opened his eyes and stared at the clock, which now pointed out that it was nearly four in the morning.  There also was a damp spot on the arm of the sofa beneath his chin.  He went to wipe away the drool, however, his ears picked up the hushed voices of Snape and Dumbledore and from what he caught, he thought it best he pretend to sleep on so that he could continue to listen.

"So he was poisoned by Voldemort?" Dumbledore's old voice seemed to melt into the room and Harry had to strain to hear.  "He suspects you then?"

"Yes." Snape seemed to be seated close by.  "But we still may be able to return…"

"I don't want you to."

"But the information we've been able to gather…"

"We'll have to make do without it.  I'll not have you come back like this again."

"But…" Harry could almost see Dumbledore quietly lifting his hand.  Strange how everyone obeyed it.

"So how did he come to be poisoned by Voldemort?"

There was a long pause while Snape evidently was piecing the evening's events together.  "The raid didn't go as planned for him," Snape began.

"Did he come along?"

"Oh, no.  He rarely ever does, especially on such a dangerous mission such as this one.  But I suppose he's been suspecting us for some time.

"He works much the same way as he has before. Gives us a spot at which to meet, then gives us our mission only moments before we are to carry it out.  He put LeSal and me in charge.  A test, I suppose.  Of course, as soon as I found out that our target was the Ministry—a special conference being held at the Minister's house, I was determined to get there first and find some way to give a warning." It seemed to be getting more and more difficult for Snape to continue.  "Oh, Albus," he finally sobbed.  "I failed.  We both tried—Merlin, we tried!  But he had it set just so—we had no time!  No time at all…and now they're all dead."

Dumbledore's voice cracked as he asked, "Arthur and Molly?"

"I think so.  I saw them go down.  Lucius Malfoy…damn him…but he didn't use Avada Kedavra…he….Salazar, in all the commotion, succeeded in getting a message off to Alastor Moody and then distracted Lucius, who was being the worst.  I think he was also managing to deflect some of the curses with that staff of his.  I was about to blow our cover and turn and fight—I know it would have been suicide, but—Alastor came almost immediately, brought a whole number of Aurors with him.  With my mask and robes, I wasn't recognized and was one of the first Moody decided to go after.  Salazar dragged me out.  Oh—I should have done more…"

"You've done more than enough already."

"But Albus…I didn't do enough.  I shouldn't have survived while so many of them died.  I was there and they got away with killing the Minister of Magic.  Arthur and Molly!  They're… I'm sitting here, alive—I don't deserve to.  Oh, and their son, Percy…that Head Boy from two years ago—he's dead.  I was looking over him when Moody got me.  Then there was Fletchley, Jackson, Haversham, the Ambassadors from the Eastern Ministry: the Changs.  Both of them were killed almost immediately.  Ludo Bagman, Stapleton…almost all the officials."

Harry felt his insides go numb then something slowly pushed its way up into his throat.  He held his eyes shut tight, fighting back the burning tears that were welling beneath his lids.  The Weasleys…he thought of Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny.  It wasn't fair at all.  Then he thought of the Changs.  Cho-Changs parents?  And Justin Finch Fletchley.  Suddenly, his thoughts strayed to Draco Malfoy.  His blood boiled.  For the first time he found himself wishing he knew some of the unforgivable curses.  If Malfoy said a word…

His emotions were broiling so violently inside of him, that he found it difficult to listen to anymore that they had to say.

"But because the Aurors did arrive so suddenly—as they have been doing in many of the raids Salazar and I have been following, I think Voldemort suspected.  When we got back, he…he immediately…tried to get us to talk." Harry could just imagine how Voldemort would go about trying to get information from someone and shuddered at the thought.  "He asked us questions about you, mainly.  I could see he's worried.  Didn't feel like we were providing enough information, though.  That's when he took Salazar and forced him to drink the poison.  Offered him the antidote as soon as he spouted off all the names closest to you.  Started off by asking if he knew why he was suddenly having trouble with the giants.  We both insisted that we knew nothing, that you even suspected us…but of course…

"I was about to…there was nothing that could be done.  I thought I was going to lose LeSal right there.  Then, of all people, Lucius Malfoy stepped forward.  Started to defend us—don't know where he found the guts."

"Salazar has been keeping close to Lucius, hasn't he?"  Dumbledore did not seem pleased at all.

"Yes.  In fact, I've argued a bit with him about that.  But he'd always insisted that it was good to keep Lucius close.  I suppose it paid off.  He was right there.  If he hadn't been spending all that time with Lucius, I suppose we'd both be dead by now."

"What about the antidote?"

Snape let off a hefty "hrmph." "He didn't have one.  He just tossed me what was left of the poison and told me to figure it out myself."

Some time passed before any more was said.  Then Dumbledore stated, "I never want either of you to return—in fact, I don't see how you can."

Snape waited, then responded softly, "There is a way.  Voldemort said we could return if we proved ourselves loyal through performing a particular task.  And while it can't be done, I have an idea in which we may be able to rid ourselves of Voldemort once and for all."

*          *          *

How exactly he had fallen asleep again, he wasn't quite sure.  Harry had wanted desperately to listen, but he had suddenly just drifted off to sleep.  He wondered if Snape or Dumbledore had done something, some charm to be sure he was not awake.

There was bright, late morning sunlight streaming through the window when he opened his eyes.  The smell of formaldehyde greeted his senses and he crinkled up his nose.  He was no longer on the sofa but had been placed on the other bed in the room and a scratchy wool blanket had been thrown over him.  For now, all he could see was the window, which was level with the muddy spring ground.  A little white chamomile flower seemed to be peering in.  Nearby, he heard an odd sound, such as someone flipping through a stack of papers.  He adjusted his glasses, which were still situated lopsided on the bridge of his nose, and rolled over.  Snape's back was to him; he was hunched intently over a desk.

LeSal looked much better.  In fact, he was sitting up in bed, propped against some pillows and drawing on a very long bone pipe.  At once, Harry thought of what Ron would say when he told him he had spent the night trapped with the Snapes—Ron…Mr. and Mrs. Weasley…Percy…He wondered if what he had heard last night was true and not something he had dreamt.  Pushing the blankets off, he swung his feet over the side of the bed and sat up.

At the sound of his stirring, Snape swiveled around in his seat.  There was an old, worn deck of cards laid out on the desk and from the look on his face, Harry knew that he had not dreamt up last night.

Snape looked about to say something but at that moment, Sirius entered the room carrying a tray of food.  He set down a plate on top of the playing cards and for once, the usual glares were not passed.  Sirius then took the rest of the tray and placed it before LeSal.

LeSal stared for a long time at the plate and drew on his pipe.  At last, he gingerly picked up a strip of blackened, crispy bacon.  "Did you make this, Blackie?  Or did I just happen to get an idiot house elf to make my breakfast this morning?"

"Just shut up and eat it."  Harry was surprised to hear Snape speak up so quickly.

LeSal seemed surprised too, but he then just narrowed his eyes and in a mocking tone said, "Well, someone sure doesn't seem to know how to keep himself from cracking under pressure."  With that, he pushed the plate away and stumbled out of bed.  He didn't seem very steady on his feet.

"I'd stay in bed if I were you.  While that potion helped you to feel better, the poison surely did damage.  You need rest."  Snape moved the plate over, picking from it while continuing on with his card game.

LeSal laughed.  "As if I should worry. Voldemort in general is a hazard to my health, and I can bet that if he's around a few months from now, I most likely will be dead—and I wouldn't give yourself much longer, dear Severus."  He then busied himself with the contents of a trunk that lay on the floor.

He had hardly removed a dark velveteen pouch when Snape said, without even looking, "I wouldn't drink any of that right now.  You threw up enough last night."

"Yes, daddy dearest," LeSal scoffed and brought the bag back into bed with him.  From inside, he pulled out a liquor bottle filled with a clear substance: the label seemed to be entirely in Russian.  He placed his pipe on a nearby table and began to drink heavily from the bottle.

Sirius shook his head.  "He's yours to deal with Severus.  Frankly, I can't see how he can drink that stuff straight."

LeSal straightened. "When you have nights as I do, you learn."  Then in a softer tone, seemingly more to himself, "Ten years teaching over in Durmstrang does it too.  Got this bottle from Karkaroff, actually—poor Igor. How long 'til we meet his fate, aye Sev?" He studied the bottle for a moment before taking another swig. 

"Dumbledore has called an important meeting for this afternoon," Snape informed softly.  "One that I highly suggest you be sober for."

Sirius looked very dark about this, then he spotted Harry.  "Ah, you're awake." He came across the room. 

Harry had been ready to cry.  His thoughts still remained on the Weasley's.  He looked up at Sirius and could feel tears beginning to burn his eyes.

"What is it Harry?" Sirius sat down on the sofa next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"The Weasleys…"

"Oh." Sirius ran a hand through his dark hair.

"Arthur and Molly Weasley are alive and recuperating in St. Mungo's," Severus answered from across the room.  "Your friend, Ronald and his siblings were informed this morning.  The headmaster took them there this morning; that is where he is now."

"However," Sirius continued, "Their son, Percy was lost."

The news of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley made Harry feel somewhat better, but the news of Percy still stung.  "But Mr. and Mrs. Weasley—they'll be okay?"

Sirius looked over to Snape who evidently seemed to have the answers.

"The owl Dumbledore sent me less than an hour ago claims that they should recover fully.  The biggest blow right now is the loss of their son."

The room was quiet and for a time, Harry allowed himself to lean against Sirius' shoulder.  Snape seemed focused on his cards while LeSal remained preoccupied with his bottle.

"Don't worry, Harry," LeSal finally spoke up.  "We're gonna kill that no good bastard.  That's what the meeting's going to be about, isn't it Sev?"

Snape glance over, raising an eyebrow.  "Be careful what you start saying.  Actually, perhaps you ought to put down the bottle now.  Harry's a student and it doesn't look good."

LeSal chuckled then said loudly, "Harry, never mind me.  I'm foul, vile—Severus makes a _much_ better role model."  He then took another drink.  More than half the bottle was now empty.  "Even though," he continued, "he has lost all sense of humor, acts like a pewit around women, needs to bathe more often, and generally adds as much life to a room as a cadaver."

"Salazar…"Snape's warning held a condescending tone.

"What?" LeSal rivaled it.  "Say, I didn't have a good night either.  I've just found a better way to cope than you."

"Drowning yourself in the bottle is hardly coping."

"And you would know? This was the way Igor handled those nights…and he was far more entertaining."

Severus let out a short snort to display his disapproval.

"You never did come and join us on our nightly games with the Moscow underground, did you?  Ah, those were fun." He turned toward Harry and Sirius, hoping they'd be a better audience. "For part of the time I taught at Durmstrang, the muggles had a very odd type of government—barbaric, really.  Their police were horrible, called them the KGB, I think.  Anyway, they knew something was odd.  For see, after a dark wizard named Rasputin, the wizarding community decided to hang low for a long while and there was a general distrust of the muggle political leaders.  So as time wore on, the wizarding community became somewhat of a superstitious tale for the muggles.  People such as Igor—Karkaroff and I, kept them guessing every now and then.  We never did anything to hurt them, of course, just had some fun and kept them on their toes." He took yet another swig from the bottle. "Strange, really."

"What is?" Harry asked half-heartedly.  He was still thinking of Percy, but LeSal's stories were helping to keep his mind from dwelling hard in the sadness.

"How many different ways the magical and muggle communities interact.  Everywhere I've been, we have remained somewhat secretive from the muggles, but take the States for instance.  There, society is much more integrated.  Wizards and witches tend to live right alongside the muggles and the government has a department of magic attached to it.  Of course, they don't tell the general public about it.  But the fact is, there isn't such a revulsion for muggle artifacts and ways of life as there is here.  That's why I personally don't think we ever have to worry about Voldemort gaining support in the States." Harry was trying to listen but his mind kept wandering to those who had died last night.  How could LeSal keep prattling on like this? "For example, I taught for two years at Crabhill and Funk.  It's in the southern part of the States—not too far from the city of New Orleans.  The school is set back in the woods close to a muggle university.  On weekends, my students would don muggle clothes and go to the same parties as the muggle students.  I went to a couple myself."  Then he laughed and in such a way as to show that the vodka was having an effect on him.  His nose and cheeks had already gone very red.  "I took Severus to one.  The students called it a crawfish boil.  They throw all these crustaceans that live at the bottom of the rivers into a boiling pot then eat them, get smashingly drunk, then they all sing songs in really bad French that usually end in everyone shouting Aieee!"

It was after this story that Lupin appeared, saving them from hearing anymore, for LeSal noticed him almost immediately.  "Ah look, it's wolf boy.  Have a good night?  Though I believe Severus and I could beat you.  We had a corking time."

Lupin had dark bags under his eyes and looked worse for the wear.  Yet he managed, "How does he manage it?"

"Manage what?" Sirius asked.

"His mood.  How he's able to be so dripping full of sarcasm after all he's been through."

Immediately, Sirius pointed to the nearly empty bottle LeSal had finally set aside.

"Ah, I keep forgetting.  He's so simple, I really must stop trying to give him depth."  As he said this, LeSal stumbled once more out of bed and headed over to the chest.

"And he's really working hard on getting sick again," Sirius noted.

Snape evidently had had enough.  His chair scraped back against the floor and he stood up, heading over to LeSal, who had just stood up holding yet another bottle, but this time the label read, _Ogden's Firewhiskey_. "Hand it over," he demanded.

LeSal ignored the request.

"Don't make me embarrass you," Snape said dangerously. "I think you've had quite enough."

Still LeSal disobeyed and so Snape finally made a pass at snatching up the bottle, but the moment his fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle, something very unexpected happened.  There was a pop, and Snape suddenly was not only holding the bottle of whiskey, but a small, emerald green wyvern.  It quickly wrapped its snakelike tail around Snape's arm and clawed at the bottle while flapping its leathery wings. 

"If you don't let go, I'm going to lock you up in Bertram's cage again," Snape threatened.

At this, the wyvern's red eyes flashed and it opened its mouth, displaying a painful set of razor sharp teeth.  It motioned to bite Snape's arm, and instinctively, Snape let go of the bottle.  There was another pop and LeSal was now sitting on the edge of the bed, holding the bottle triumphantly.  However, the glowing red eyes had not completely disappeared, and still glinted in his own.  This made even Snape balk.

*          *          *

Things had quieted down quickly, for LeSal had soon fallen asleep and Harry had the chance to visit with Sirius and Lupin before returning to his dorm.

Quidditch had of course been cancelled.  The Changs that had been killed in the raid were in fact Cho's parents.  The entire school seemed hushed—even the Slytherins, for as Harry soon found out, some of the Death Eaters had been captured or killed.  Luckily, Harry didn't see hide nor hair of Draco Malfoy.  So he spent most of the day quietly sitting with Hermione and Neville until McGonagall unexpectedly entered the common room.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry sprang up from his seat at the call of his name and began to think of what could be wrong.  His heart did a little flip-flop.

"The headmaster wishes to see you in his office."

Harry glanced back at Hermione who gave him a reassuring nod, then followed McGonagall out of the common room.  They passed Peeves in the hall who was attempting to wrestle an ax out of the hands of a suit of armor that appeared determined not to surrender it.

"Peeves!" McGonagall snapped.  "Leave that alone."

Peeves let go of the ax but wrinkled up his nose and pursed his lips in imitation of McGonagall.  She only shook her head and quickened her pace.  "You may need something like this if that Lucius Malfoy returns," Peeves called after.

McGonagall stopped.  "Lucius Malfoy was here?"

Peeves did a summersault and stuck out his tongue.

"When?"

"Oh," Peeves twiddled his thumbs. "Just a few hours ago.  Very secretive. Up to no good, I suspect."

McGonagall looked worried.  "Was he alone?"

"No," Peeves grinned.

"Who was with him?"

"Hmmm. Is it my business to say?"

"I'll get the headmaster, Peeves, if you don't tell me."

Peeves looked sour and said in an oily voice. "Professor LeSal was with him.  And I know nothing more because he forced me—very rudely, I do say—to leave."  And with that, Peeves floated off.

By the look on McGonagall's face, Harry could tell that she was not happy.  "He better not be messing anything up," he heard her say under her breath and he wondered if she meant Malfoy or LeSal, or both.

As they neared Dumbledore's office, Harry contemplated on what he was needed for.  Undoubtedly it would have to do with last night.  Perhaps this was the meeting Snape had mentioned—but why was he invited?  Halfway up the spiral staircase, McGonagall stopped.

"I trust you can find your way from here," she stated before turning around and heading back down.  Evidently, she was not attending the meeting.

Alone, he climbed to the top of the stairs and lifted the silver knocker.

"Come in, Harry," Dumbledore said before the knocker had even dropped.

Inside, the room was crowded.  Dumbledore was leaning against his desk while numerous wizards and a witch, one whom Harry had never seen before, sat seated in assorted chairs.  There was Sirius and Remus Lupin, both Snapes, Mad Eye Moody, and next to him, an odd looking aged wizard with a very lopsided pointed hat, and… "Mrs. Figg?" Harry said, startled to see the woman from Privet Drive.  She had brought one of her cats with her and it was weaving around her legs.

"Harry," Mrs. Figg acknowledged, giving him a warm smile.

"I think you've already met Arabella Figg," Dumbledore explained, "so I believe the only introduction that needs to be done here is Mr. Fletcher." He motioned toward the man in the pointed hat.  "Harry, this is Mundungus Fletcher, an old colleague of mine."

He looked to be quite old, though Harry didn't feel as if he could rightly estimate the age of a wizard.

"It is very good to finally meet you, Mr. Potter," and Mr. Fletcher gave a slight bow.

"Sit, Harry." Dumbledore motioned toward an empty seat Harry hadn't noticed before.  "You're no doubt wondering why we summoned you here.  The truth is Harry, our plan unfortunately includes you, though if everything works out as planned, you won't be directly involved."  Sirius walked around the room and placed his hands on Harry's shoulder as Dumbledore continued, "Professor Snape and LeSal were asked by Voldemort to show their loyalty by bringing you to him.  Of course, we would never even consider such a thing." Snape was looking over at Harry, an indiscernible expression on his face while LeSal was just staring at the floor. Harry wondered what was going on in his mind.  Why had he been talking to Lucius Malfoy earlier? Did Dumbledore or Snape know about that? "So Severus has devised a plan in which we can use this request of Voldemort's to cause his downfall."  Everyone in the room was paying rapt attention to Dumbledore, all except LeSal.  Should he say something?  "The plan is this: Severus will return with Harry, but then again, not with Harry."

"How so?" Mrs. Figg asked, picking up her cat off the floor.

"Polyjuice."

Moody twitched oddly at this.

"I will go disguised as Harry."  Everyone froze after Dumbledore announced this.

"So you'll be confronting Voldemort, directly?" Lupin said softly.

"Severus will be with me, and I'm hoping there will be a way in which I can have some of you join with me shortly after I reveal myself."

"What about the Death Eaters?" Moody pointed out, his eye swiveled to the Snapes.  "I have faith that you can handle Voldemort, but he is far more powerful when he has his toadies with him."

"I have thought about that, and I am hoping that Salazar can help us there." LeSal finally looked up while Moody looked skeptically over at Dumbledore.  "He has been keeping in touch with Lucius Malfoy, who we are certain is a Death Eater with some prominence in Voldemort's circle.  I think I'll let him tell you exactly what he plans."

LeSal stood up. His eyes were red and he swayed slightly.  He was still ill, either from the poison or alcohol, or maybe a bit of both.  "There is unrest among the Death Eaters," he began in a voice that seemed much older than he looked.  "It's been growing slowly.  There are many who believe that Voldemort lost too much of himself when he fell.  That he will never be as strong as he once was and that he's easily distracted, especially where Mr. Potter is concerned." Harry squirmed in his seat.  "Harry's sort of become his white whale and many of us—the Death Eaters," Harry caught him catching himself there, "find it rather ridiculous.  They believe that a new leader needs to step forward.  There's been mumblings of a rebellion.

"I believe that I could set it off."

"And how would this help us?" Sirius was looking distrustfully over at Salazar.

Salazar answered it in such a way as to show that he didn't think he had to explain it, especially to Sirius.  "It would take the Death Eaters away from Voldemort.  All I need to know is when exactly we will be doing this, and I will call a meeting somewhere where it will be difficult to quickly apparate from.  Most of the Death Eaters will come.  You'll still have to deal with a few, such as the LeStranges, but Voldemort would be greatly weakened."

"You have the power to do this?" Sirius asked, and from the look of Moody's face, Harry didn't doubt that he was thinking the same thing, only he was pondering something else.  He wondered if LeSal caught it.

"Both Lucius and I hold a lot of sway.  Together, we probably can name every single Death Eater that there is."

"I thought you said you didn't know very many!" Sirius burst out.

"He lied," Moody explained coldly.

"Look," Salazar turned on Moody, "I'm not as ready as you are to go throw everyone into Azkaban.  I think things through.  Even though I may know someone's a criminal, I wait to see how I can use them, such as we are going to do now."

"But if they were in Azkaban, we wouldn't be faced with the problem of trying to get them out of the way!" Moody argued.

"If I had told you everyone, then Voldemort would probably have figured out who the fink was and neither I nor Severus would be here right now offering you the chance to get at Voldemort himself."

Moody scoffed, "I know you better than you think, Salazar Snape. I know how you slink around. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater."

Snape turned on Moody at this but Dumbledore intervened before there was a conflict.  "I trust both of them, Alastor.  They have never failed me—or us.  They're pertinent to this struggle, and I believe have shown themselves to very honorable wizards.  Now," he turned to Harry, "we're going to eventually need something from you to complete the polyjuice potion, and of course, I need your absolute secrecy.  No one outside of this room is to know what we discussed here.  Also, after considering what happened to you at the end of last year and the danger that you are unfortunately in, I have decided, Harry, to have you learn some advanced magic that may help you if you get in a bind.  Professor Snape will help you." Harry looked over at Snape but he and Moody were still attempting to stare the other down.


	16. The Challenge

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

A/N:  for aska8 who asked where I got the name wyvern.  It's in the dictionary: "Wyvern, [also spelled wivern], [from the Old French _wivre_, meaning a serpent], in heraldry, a dragon with wings, two legs, and a barbed tail." From Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1975 ed.)

Chapter XVI

The Challenge

After the meeting, Harry had gone strait back to his dorm and had gone to sleep.  He didn't want to speak to anyone and so slept right through dinner and on until it was nearly midnight when someone coming into the room awaked him.  (Dean and Neville had already bedded down.)

"Ron?" Harry reached for his glasses on the nightstand. "Is that you?"

"Harry?" It was Ron.

"How are you?" Harry adjusted his glasses and slid out of bed.

"As good as can be expected, I suppose." Ron put down his bag.  "I wanted to go home with Bill and Charlie but they insisted that I come back to school."

"Your mum and dad okay?"

Ron rubbed his eyes before answering.  "They were both hurt, but they'll be out of the hospital by the end of the week.  Mum won't stop crying about Percy, though."

Harry put an arm around his friends shoulder.  "I am so sorry," he whispered.

"Thanks." Again, Ron rubbed his eyes.  "Say, I'm going to go down to the common room.  Fred and George and Ginny are down there. You want to come with me?  It'd mean a lot to Ginny."

Harry nodded, even though his response probably couldn't be made out in the dark.  After throwing on his robes, he descended the stairs.

Fred and George were both sitting on a couch looking stunned while Ginny was curled up into a little ball on one of the big armchairs, her face wet with tears.  Ron sat in the opposite chair and took up a position much like that of the twins.  Harry glanced down at Ginny's pathetic condition.  "You mind if I share this chair with you?" he asked softly.  "I think we can both fit."

Ginny didn't make a sound but she did sit up and let Harry get situated.  She looked into his eyes briefly before sobbing, "Percy's dead," then buried her face into Harry's shoulder.

He wasn't quite sure how to handle this so he just allowed her to soak his robes with her tears and carefully placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"They said he ran straight up to the Death Eaters when they burst in," George recounted, "and they killed him instantly."

"Mum's afraid that Bill and Charlie are going to try and go after them," Fred added.

"Don't worry, Dumbledore's got something planned." Harry felt it was safe enough to tell them that much.  "He'll get Voldemort."

"I sure hope so." Ron was gripping the arms of his chair and speaking through gritted teeth.  "I hope he kills them all—Voldemort and all of his followers."

Harry silently agreed as he thought about the plan. He felt a pang of worry as he did so.  So much was at stake.

*

The plan was not going to be carried out for some time, as they had to wait for the polyjuice potion to brew.  During that time, Harry was once again forced to spend his free time with Professor Snape, only this time, he was getting lessons—and he began to consider the organizing of the Potion's storeroom to be far less stressful.  Snape had no patience.

"I can't believe that's the best you can do.  Need I show you again?"

Harry gripped his wand tightly.  He was not about to be thrown across the room again.  Snape had translated Dumbledore's orders to instruct him in some necessary advanced magic into meaning dueling lessons.  Purposefully, he raised his wand and shouted, "_Expelliarmus_!"

Snape successfully blocked it. "_Expelliarmus_," he returned.

Harry attempted to block it but was still thrown off his feet—though he had managed to soften the blow so that he didn't completely get bowled over and stunned as Gilderoy Lockheart had.

"Damnit, Harry!" Snape looked ready to strangle him.  "Your wand work is just pitiful."

"It's not pitiful," Harry grumbled.  "I get good marks."

"Good marks?" Snape repeated.  "That doesn't mean anything."

"It means I know how to use a wand!" This lesson looked to be heading on a collision course with disaster.

"No it doesn't. It means you've got the words and the correct movement—but you're not putting any power behind it."

Power behind what? Harry couldn't believe this.  "_Power _behind _what_?"

Snape looked at him in disbelief.  "Don't tell me no one's ever explained to you…"

"Not until their seventh year, Severus." Dumbledore's voice rang out in the empty dungeon classroom, calming and reasonable.  Snape immediately straightened and most of the frustration drained from his face.  "Have you started lessons in Apparition yet?"

"Apparition?" Snape glared at Harry.  "Not with his clumsy wand work.  He needs to understand the principles of magic before we have him attempt to Apparate.  I'm not about to fix splinchings right now."

Apparition? Splinching?  None of this sounded overly good.  He looked toward Dumbledore for reassurance.

"Harry," Dumbledore said kindly, "do you remember the very first spell you ever learned?"

Harry thought back.  Why was he being asked this?  Then he remembered.  Ron had used it on the mountain troll.  "_Wingardium Leviosa_," he replied, feeling like an idiot.

"Ah, yes." Dumbledore smiled and pulled a feather out of his sleeve, setting it down on the nearest table. "Now I want you to perform that charm."

Harry stared stupidly at the feather.  What was this? Wasn't he supposed to learning advanced magic to help him fight Death Eaters, dementors, and Lord Voldemort? He raised his wand, but Dumbledore reached over and plucked it from his hand.

"Without the wand, Harry."

"Without my wand?" Harry gasped.  "Professor, how am I supposed to manage that?"

Dumbledore looked to Snape, passing Harry's wand to him.

"Isn't it dangerous to teach Potter this so soon, headmaster?" Snape whispered.

"Not if you point out the danger in it.  Besides, you are right that he needs to know the fundamentals of the powers that reside in him.  And I can think of no one better to teach him." He gave Snape a pat on the shoulder then took a seat in the back of the classroom.

Snape crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at Harry.  Even though Harry had grown considerably over the years, Snape still towered over him, standing a few inches past six feet.  "The magic," he began, "that resides inside of you, inside of me, inside of every witch and wizard differs in its potency. Without dipping into it, you can still perform magic, but just to suffice.  Your wand draws what it needs from you and directs it at whoever or whatever you may be pointing at.  This is for small tasks and keeping students from hurting themselves.  We usually reserve this lesson until a student is in his last years because it would be far beyond a first years control or comprehension and can be extremely dangerous.  What you will be doing, is drawing upon the magical energy inside of you and focusing it in your spells."

"My magical energy?" This sounded so hokey. Like something Professor Trelawney would come up with.

"Yes Harry," Dumbledore spoke from his corner, "the very thing that makes you a wizard.  I believe you know exactly what I'm speaking of."

"I do?"

Dumbledore nodded.  "A Patronus needs a wizard to purposefully throw some of his magic into his wand to make it powerful enough."

"But I thought that it was just good thoughts that created a Patronus."

Giving that warm smile that Harry associated so well with the old headmaster, Dumbledore explained, "To some extent, though how would you explain your first attempts to be so weak?  It was when you were excited or terribly frightened that it truly became powerful—did it not?"

Harry thought hard on it.  Was this true?

"And the times that you performed magic when incredibly upset.  I believe that one year you blew up your aunt over the summer?" Snape gave Harry an odd look while Dumbledore's eyes glinted over his spectacles.  "And you did that without your wand."

"Yes, but I had no intention of doing it!"

Dumbledore chuckled and came over to stand before him. "Didn't you?"

"Uh…" Harry really didn't want to answer that, and if anyone other than Dumbledore were asking, he wouldn't.  "I suppose so.  But she insulted my parents."

"There's no need to defend yourself. It's perfectly understandable.  Now, what made your aunt blow up without a spell or wand—and that shows that you have a lot of potential, Mr. Potter—it's that power that Professor Snape is talking about and is going to help you harness."

"But how?" Harry had to ask.  "If I don't even know how I'm doing it?"

Dumbledore stepped forward. "Take my hand," he ordered.

Carefully, Harry did as he was told and took the headmaster's wrinkled hand into his.  It surprised him at how cold and bony Dumbledore's hand was and his skin was like tissue paper.  But then something odd began to happen that changed that.  The hand became slowly warmer.  To his amazement, Dumbledore's palm became hot—almost too hot to touch.  At last, it receded and Dumbledore looked down at Harry.  "Now it's your turn."

His turn? "What did you do? What am I supposed to do?"

"I drew upon the magic in me and pushed it out through my hand."

Harry stared at his hand in awe.  "How do I do that?"

"Oh, my." Dumbledore stepped back to think. "Well…" he looked toward Snape and chuckled. "It's been about fifty years since I've actually taught."

"This isn't something that we teach." Snape was holding Harry's wand and seemed to have noticed something peculiar about it and was studying it closely.  "My father explained it to me as light.  Imagining a light that's inside of you, and you need to guide it up through your arm into your wand."

"Very good analogy, professor."

A light? Harry imagined a soft glow inside of him—maybe at his stomach? He closed his eyes and imagined pushing it towards his arm.  Nothing happened.  

He screwed up his face and imagined the light to be larger, like the blue flame Hermione carried in a jar.  Still nothing.

With a sigh, he imagined it as something much brighter, like the sun.

The strangest sensation filled him.  He was suddenly aware of a tingling.  It was warm and almost comforting and it swelled in his chest.  He had the palm of his wand hand pressed against Dumbldore's and as the sensation grew to where he was almost afraid that it would leap out of his chest, it coursed through his shoulder, down his arm to his hand.  Almost immediately, his palm began to burn.  Dumbledore quickly withdrew his hand.

Had he done something wrong? Harry looked down at the floor as Dumbledore eyed him in a very peculiar way.  When he lifted his eyes, Snape was staring at him too.

"Did I do something wrong?"

It took Dumbledore a moment to answer and when he did, he seemed to be in deep thought.  "Uh, no Harry…you didn't do anything wrong…not anything at all." He gave a weak smile then patted Snape on the arm and left, still immersed deeply in his thoughts.

Harry looked to Snape for answers but he looked—as if Harry were about to turn him into a toad or something.

"So, Professor…" Harry jammed his hands into a the pockets of his robes, "how do I use that to move the feather?"

This seemed to break Snape out of a trance.  "As if you had your wand," he explained.

Harry didn't understand and Snape could see this in his face.  He looked about to lose what little patience he had.  "You do know the spell, don't you, Potter?"

Meekly, Harry responded, "Yes, Professor." He wished that Dumbledore hadn't left.  "Place your hand over the feather and say the words to the spell—in your head, if you wish."

His hand was trembling as he held it out over the feather.  It wasn't helping that he had Snape breathing down his neck.  He closed his eyes and tried to imagine that Snape wasn't there as he pictured the bright light again.  He opened his eyes and stared at the feather.  _Wingardium Leviosa_, he thought at it.

The feather didn't budge.

_Wingardium Leviosa,_ he said to himself.  The warm tingling sensation returned and with less concentration than before, he directed it at the feather through his hand.

_Wingardium Leviosa._

Violently, the feather shook before shooting up to the ceiling where it stuck as if plastered there.  He stared at it, unbelieving until it peeled off the ceiling and floated down, looking very battered.

"As you can see, Mr. Potter," Snape spoke in an extremely dark tone, "not using a wand can be a very dangerous thing.  This is magic in its most raw form: unpredictable and virtually uncontrollable.  That is why we use wands.  What I suggest you do, is practice a simple charm, such as this, with your wand, and try putting some true effort into your spells.  However, class time is not a time to practice, and—if I ever catch you 'testing' your skills on anything living, which includes fellow students you may not be too fond of, I will personally see to your punishment—and I will warn you, that if you ever wish to see me truly angry, that is one way to do it."

Harry nodded, not having the slightest inclination to argue.

*

Harry hadn't quite figured out what to think of his lessons involving placing more power behind his spells. He seemed to be able to only perform the spells as he had, or over perform them.  During one session, he had attempted_ Accio Cauldron Cakes _with some cauldron cakes he had set out on a table but was pummeled by all at once and had to leave the lesson early to take a bath and Snape had gotten angry as the cakes had done a fair job of smattering over him as well.

Snape seemed to act differently after that first lesson with Dumbledore; he seemed somewhat fidgety, but Harry couldn't blame him, with cauldron cakes flying at his fac,e who wouldn't get worried about what was next?

Professor LeSal joined Snape for lessons on Apparition and these he quickly learned to hate and began to dread the lessons even more.

*

"Harry, where you going?" Ron asked one afternoon as Harry left for yet another lesson.

"Got some extra work to do."

"What extra work? You've been doing 'extra work' almost every ruddy afternoon."  Ron's face looked hurt and angry.  He hadn't smiled in almost three weeks and Harry had been so busy, so concerned with Dumbledore's plan and the lessons with Snape—and the impending O.W.L.s—that he had been ignoring his best friend.  A pain stabbed his heart as he thought about it.  But it was all so overwhelming.  There were times that he wouldn't mind being locked back beneath the cupboard under the stairs where he could stay, blocking out the world and Voldemort and all the heartache.

"I'm so sorry, Ron." His sincerity came out in his voice and Ron looked about ready to cry.

"Can I at least come with you?" Ron's voice was cracking.

Harry wanted so badly to let him come along, but he knew that the Snapes would never allow it.  Then an idea came to him: he could trust Ron.  After losing his brother and nearly losing his parents, he could be trusted with keeping his mouth shut.  "I'll let you, if you can keep a secret.  You can wear my invisibility cloak."

"What type of secret?" Ron asked warily.

"A big one.  One involving Dumbledore."

Ron's eyes grew wide as Harry led him up to their room to fetch the invisibility cloak; and a change of clothes that Snape had asked him to bring—he hoped it didn't mean another lesson with cauldron cakes.  While there, they were alone so he unfolded all that happened that night when the Snapes had returned and about the meeting between Dumbledore and all those who were helping him.  He then explained about the lessons.

"So Snape was there: he was with them that night," Ron began.

"Yes," Harry replied, "but you must understand that you can never say anything.  If someone like Draco Malfoy found out and told his father…"

"I understand perfectly.  But if Snape was there that night…"

Harry didn't let Ron finish his thought, "More people would probably have died."

"Oh…" Ron's voice trailed off as he thought exactly about what that meant.

They headed out of the dorms and the common room quietly, Ron just carrying the cloak under his robes so they could talk if they wanted without looking suspicious with Harry speaking to a disembodied voice.

"My parents are doing much better," Ron said after they had entered the dungeon corridors.  "Though, dad's got to walk with a pair of crutches.  Bill and Charlie have decided to stay for a while and look after mum.  Dad's been thinking about trying to get them a job at the…"

"Oh, look.  It's Potter and Weasley."  Harry cringed at the voice.  "Your dad and mum feeling better, Weasley?"

Harry instinctively grabbed Ron's arm.

"Watch it, Malfoy," Ron spat.  "My dad's Minister now; he could have yours thrown in Azkaban any day, so you better watch what you say."

"Hey," Malfoy smiled, "no need to get so upset.  I was just asking about how your family was doing.  Nothing wrong in that, is there?  I heard they weren't doing so well." Harry gripped onto Ron even more tightly.  "So how are they Weasley? How about that brother of yours? The annoying one—the Head Boy from a while back?  I heard the unfortunate rumor that he's dead.  Heard that he screamed like a girl and pleaded for his life on his knees too."

There was no holding Ron back and it took all of Harry's strength from not doing to Malfoy what he had done to the feather.  However, he got the satisfaction of hearing a loud "crack" as Ron put his fist right into Malfoy's nose.  Malfoy stumbled back, holding his nose while blood trickled down onto his robes.  Letting go of his nose, he lunged at Ron.  Their fists began to fly, until Ron, just by being so much taller than Malfoy, managed to get him down on the ground where he could just begin to pound relentlessly on his face.  Crabb and Goyle seemed too stunned to do anything at all.  Harry was the one who finally stepped forward and grabbed Ron's shoulders.  "He's not worth it, Ron!  Now come along before Snape or Filch sees you." Ron wouldn't stop.  "Please, Ron.  Your mom and dad wouldn't like to get a letter right now."

Ron finally stopped.  He was breathing hard and his face matched his hair.  Malfoy took the opportunity to push Ron away and gain his feet. 

"I'm going directly to Professor Snape."

"Oh, you are, are you?" Harry said rather quietly.  "Then the whole school can know how Ron beat you up?  Because I would say he wiped the floor with you."

Malfoy turned red.

"I think it's best you go back to your common room and clean up.  And Ron won't say a word if you don't."  Harry wondered if his voice of reason would reach any of them.  They were both staring at one another, ready to fight again.

"You were the first to throw the punch, Weasel," Malfoy said malevolently.

"That doesn't matter to the professors," Harry pointed out.  "You'll both be in the same amount of trouble."

"We'll see about that," Malfoy sneered, "after I see Professor Snape and show him my nose."

"You think he really cares, do you?" Harry's anger was growing.  He'd really like to see Malfoy squashed against the ceiling.

"What you don't know, Potter," Malfoy gave a knowing laugh.

"I know more than you do," and Harry was right.  "You're scum, Malfoy. And you'll end up just like your father who's running strait toward ruin."

"You trying to pick a fight with me too, Potter?" Malfoy asked slyly.

"You're not worth my time."

"I'd have to say the same about you, however, we don't know do we?"

"What do you mean?" Ron growled.  "Harry could pound you any day."

"Really," Malfoy seemed very happy all of a sudden. "Then why don't we see?  A duel. I challenge you to a duel."

"Not another one," Ron commented.

"Yeah," Harry added, "last time you bugged out."

"Yeah, well," Malfoy was looking absolutely devious, "last time we were in our first year.  We wouldn't be able to do much to each other anyway, but now that we're older…I mean it this time.  You and me and our wands."

"If you really mean it, I'll be his second."

"No seconds," Malfoy shot quickly.  "Just Potter and me."

"Then no Crabb and Goyle," Ron ordered.

"Yes, no Crabb or Goyle."

"No one else."  Harry was suddenly left out of the conversation as Ron began to spout off all the conditions for him.

"No other students, I won't tell a professor. You have my word as a wizard.  I'm interested to see how I match up to Potter.  I won't mess it up.  We need to see who really is the strongest once and for all." Malfoy seemed suddenly very serious.  

 "No Unforgivable Curses," Harry said gravely, not putting it past Malfoy to try and use them.

"No Unforgivables—geesh, Potter, who do you think I am?"

"And we'll have it at a time before curfew."

Malfoy didn't seem to like this. Then he thought, "Okay, nine thirty.  That will give us a half hour; I don't think it will take long."

"Nine."

"Okay, nine, IF I get to choose where."

"Where were you thinking?"

"Down here in the dungeons, where no one will hear should you scream. I know of a classroom Snape doesn't keep locked with too many charms."

Harry was a bit skeptical at this, but if it was at nine, then he couldn't get in trouble for being out after curfew. "Okay.  But no tricks."

"No tricks. And nine o'clock right here, tonight.  I'll bring only my wand and you do the same.  Once we officially start, all is game except for the Unforgivables."


	17. The Duel

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter Universe.

Terms: the "feathers" on the horse means long hair.  Horse feathers are long hairs on a horse's legs, not real feathers.

Chapter XVII

The Duel

"What's this?" Ron asked, picking something shiny off the floor after Malfoy had slithered off.  As he held it up to show Harry, it began to glow.

"It's a Truthstone," Harry replied and took it from Ron.  It continued to glow as he walked down the hall, explaining to Ron about what it did.

"Wicked.  I want one."  Ron licked his lips, which had blood on them from where Malfoy had split his lower lip.  Harry wanted to put the invisibility cloak over him. "Do you think Malfoy will miss it? It's not like his father can't buy him a new one."

"No." Harry placed the chain and stone into a pocket. "They're rare and Malfoy might accuse you of stealing if he saw you with it.  I'll give it to Professor LeSal, which reminds me—you should probably put on the invisibility cloak."

Ron stopped and pulled out the cloak. "Do you think he's going to snitch?"

"Not if he doesn't want the whole school to find out you beat him up."

"How do I look?"

"Can't see a thing."

"Good."

"Now be quiet, we're almost there," cautioned Harry.

"You know what, though?"

"Shhh."

"That felt good."

"What did?"

"Breaking Malfoy's nose."

*

It felt like moving through the flu network only without all the smoke and ash.  As soon as he felt his feet planted firmly on the lawn, he had to check over himself to make sure that all of him had made it successfully over to where Snape stood.

"It's about time," Snape commented harshly.  He was in a sour mood—an exceptionally bad one.

"That was wonderful, Harry," LeSal said gleefully.  "You caught on quick and no splinchings and no winding up in the middle of the Forbidden Forest."

They stood outside on the lawn.  Harry had successfully Apparated from one point on the edge of the Forbidden Forest to a place a few yards away at Snape's side.

"Now try again," Professor Snape wasn't half as pleasant looking as LeSal at the moment, so Harry held tight to his wand and uttered the spell while concentrating on the point to where he wished to Apparate.  The whole incident with Draco Malfoy was pushed to the back of his mind with the excitement of learning this new spell.  He wished he could see Ron's face as he glanced over at Hagrid's vegetable patch to where he knew Ron had taken a seat on a nearby tree stump.

"Now remember," Snape explained as he walked across the lawn toward Harry who had just Apparated next to Professor LeSal.  "Remember to keep a clear idea in mind of your destination and never, never, try to Disapperate without your wand.  It is important that you only use your wand.  This is a spell that cannot be safely done with a borrowed wand.  Are you listening to me, Potter?"

"Yes, professor.  Only attempt to Apparate without my wand."

Snape got furious at this while LeSal laughed with Harry.  

"I think he heard you the first time, Sev," LeSal broke in.  "You got the hang of it, don't you, Harry?" Professor LeSal had lightened up somewhat and Harry was thankful that he had.  He didn't know how he would have survived Apparition lessons otherwise.  "Well, now.  Is that all for today?  I believe it is."

"No." Snape had an odd look on his face.  One that Harry couldn't discern: similar to the one at the end of year feast last year.  "Dumbledore is supposed to be here."

"He is?" LeSal looked puzzled, then his face darkened. "Oh…"

Suddenly, Harry remembered the Truthstone.  If Dumbledore was supposed to be joining them, he thought it best to return it now.  "Professor LeSal," he pulled the Truthstone from his pocket, "I found this in the hall.  I think it belongs to Malfoy." He held out the dull, white colored crystal fastened to the silver chain.  LeSal drew away from Harry who was reminded that he couldn't come in contact with the professor, and so he turned to Snape who held out his hand for it.  It started to glow as Harry handed it to him and continued to do so as Snape tucked it safely away.

"Headmaster?" LeSal was looking out over the lawn at an approaching figure.  Both Harry and Snape turned to see.

"And how are the lessons coming along?" Dumbledore's voice was soft and friendly yet Harry picked up an uncharacteristic hint of solemnity and sadness.

"I Apparated, professor," Harry informed, smiling.

"Ah, yes, very good, Harry.  Remember though, you can't Apparate into Hogwarts and you must always use your wand.  Not Mr. Weasleys, nor Miss Granger's, but yours only."

Harry swore that he caught a sly look pass from Snape to LeSal.

"So," Dumbledore sounded so old, "everything is ready for tonight? Everyone's been contacted and the potion is ready?"

Snape gave a curt nod.

"And is everything set as far as you're concerned?" he asked gravely of LeSal.

"Yes, headmaster," LeSal replied quietly.

Dumbledore placed his hands behind his back and let out a long sigh.  He studied the grass before turning to Harry, "Did you bring an extra change of clothes with you, Harry?"

Harry nodded sickly as he now realized what the change of clothes was for.  "I brought an old pair of robes," he explained.  "I thought that they were going to be used for…for a lesson involving cauldron cakes or something…" He felt so stupid after saying this.

"Cauldron cakes?" Dumbledore chuckled as he glanced at Snape.  "You're using cauldron cakes in your lessons, Severus? I would have never have given it a thought."

Normally, Harry would have expected Snape to scowl, but—his mouth curled up into a small sort of smile.

"Oh, and if I could see your glasses too, Harry," and Dumbledore withdrew his wand as Harry handed him the change of clothes.  Harry removed his glasses and handed those over as well.  Dumbledore softly mumbled some words and tapped them and there appeared an identical pair.

"I feel bad," Harry said as Dumbledore returned him his glasses.  "You having to turn into me for this."

"And why should that make you feel bad?" Dumbledore was digging through his pockets.  He stopped when he found what he was looking for and brandished a small golden pair of scissors in the shape of a crane.

"Well…you're a great wizard," Harry explained.  "Are you going to fight Voldemort looking like me? Because you should look like you…it wouldn't be right."

"No?" There was a brilliant flash of color then the fluttering of wings.  Harry felt something settle down on his shoulder.  Dumbledore leaned back and smiled.  "It'll be an honor.  I'll be transforming to look like another great wizard.  And if you don't agree, I believe Fawkes would vouch for me." Harry turned his head to see the scarlet and gold phoenix perched on his shoulder. "Now see here," Dumbledore said jokingly as Fawkes put his head next to Harry's ear.  "What's the meaning of this? Don't like the old man anymore?" As if in response, Fawkes flapped his enormous wings and glided over to settle on Dumbledore's shoulder.  Dumbledore reached up and stroked lovingly the bright plumage.  "Thought I'd take him outside for a bit, let him stretch his wings." He smiled and turned to Snape, "How's Bertram doing?"

Snape looked somewhat startled by the question.  He turned away before replying in a barely audible tone, "I let him go."

Evidently, Dumbledore hadn't expected this response, and it troubled him; Harry could read it in the way he was looking at Snape, who was trying to avoid him.  When it seemed that Snape was not going to turn around, Dumbledore approached Harry.

"Harry, I'm going to need some of your hair for the potion." He placed the clothes on the ground and with the small golden scissors, trimmed a small lock of Harry's messy black hair and placed it into a small pouch.

Harry couldn't stand it any longer.  "I need to go with you," he stated firmly.  "This is partly my fault—Voldemort being back."

Dumbledore's face crinkled up and Harry swore that he saw tears forming in the old wizard's eyes.  "No Harry," he said ever so softly.  "You have done so much."  He threw a comforting arm over Harry's shoulders.  "Never think that Voldemort's existence is your fault."

"But if I hadn't been there last year."

"There was nothing you could have done.  It was my fault for not catching Crouch.  Years ago, I would have never let such a thing slip by…" he trailed off.  "No, I failed you.  You should have never have had to go through such an ordeal.  I should have been there that night with you."

Fawkes stretched his wings, embracing both headmaster and student in the glistening feathers.  Harry looked over and spotted a tear that had trickled down Dumbledore's cheek and lodged itself by his crooked nose.

"Now, now," he said, drawing away.  "What's past is past, and we must look to the future.  Do things as best we can.  So tonight, I don't want you to worry.  I have faith that all will be put right tonight and the one thing I ask of you, is to stay in the castle.  Don't leave—even to visit Hagrid," and he said in a louder tone, "I am sure you and Mr. Ronald Weasley can find something to do inside the school.  In fact, I'd like to ask Mr. Weasley to be sure that you do."

Harry had to smile.  "How do you know?" he whispered.

Dumbledore chuckled.  "When you're as old as me, you'll know too.  I'm an old man, Harry.  An old, old man," and Dumbledore turned away, heading toward Snape with Fawkes still standing guard on his shoulder.  "Now run along Harry, and try not to worry yourself too much about us."

*

Harry felt absolutely horrible about the planned duel for that night.  Then again, Malfoy made him so angry.  He was Death Eater material: no question, and his father was probably out—well, hopefully LeSal would be successful in distracting him.

He walked alone down the long corridors, thinking about Dumbledore and Snape and Sirius and Lupin.  The sunset had been violently pink and it lit up the hallways, but it was slowly fading as darkness fell.

He'd make this quick.  He'd put his full energy behind a simple disarming spell and have Malfoy knocked out against the wall before the duel had barely begun.  Then he could return to his room and just wait for morning.

He came to the spot where Malfoy had said they should meet and he waited.  It wasn't quite nine yet, so he slid down to the floor and sat studying his wand.  It was rather beautiful; a simple work of art.  The wood was polished to where it nearly shone and the handle was carved so that it fit his hand.  Though now, his hand was much larger and if he grew anymore, it might not fit so perfectly.

"So you ready?" Malfoy loomed over him, black robes making his complexion even paler.  His hands were set firmly on his hips.

"I've been here waiting," and Harry heaved himself off the floor.

"Shall we then?" The way Malfoy was looking at him gave Harry the urge to just throw their wands aside and decide this with fists.  They were about the same height, but Malfoy had a rather frail build.

Harry followed him deeper into the dungeons.  At least he wouldn't have to worry about Snape—Snape; for once, he truly felt sick with worry for the greasy Potions professor.

Malfoy stopped at a heavy wooden door and tried the knob.  "_Alahomora_," he commanded when that didn't work and the door clicked open. "After you."

"I don't think so." Harry was still waiting for some sort of deception.  "You go first."

"Still don't trust me, Potter?" Malfoy tried to sound hurt. "Really, I'm looking forward to this duel."

"No, I wouldn't trust you behind a knut," Harry muttered as Malfoy entered the room.  It was evidently used for potions in progress as there were numerous cauldrons bubbling over fires in the back.  There seemed to be enough room for a duel, though, and it appeared vacant.  He scanned the room carefully before entering just to be sure.

"It's only me.  See?  No tricks, as I promised."

For once, it seemed as if Draco was speaking the truth.  He stepped into the center and withdrew his wand, but as he did—the door slammed shut and the lock slid across, apparently on it's own.

A horrible feeling crept into him.  There _was_ someone else in the room his heart raced as he looked around, then it occurred to him: that person could be invisible.

"You've deceived me!" Harry tried to sound more angry than scared, but it didn't come out that way.  "There's someone else here."

"I don't see anyone," Malfoy said slyly. "And I kept my word: no Crabb, no Goyle, no other friends of mine, no professors."

Wildly, Harry tried to sort out who could be left.  The Bloody Baron? No, a school ghost would never harm a student or take part in any silly duel.  Why did he have to be so stupid? 

"Oh, I will admit that I did invite one person," Malfoy said offhandedly. "Since you seemed to have so much to say about my father, I thought it might be nice if you got the chance to say it to his face."

A sick feeling hit him. He need needed to get out now.  There were no windows, only the door. Harry gripped his wand tightly and made a run for it, but as he feared, he didn't make it to the door.  Lucius Malfoy tore off an invisibility cloak and stood squarely in front of him. Harry stopped just before hitting into him, and thought quickly.

Putting his new found strength behind his wand, Harry yelled out, "_Expelliarmus!"_

Mr. Malfoy was thrown off his feet and his back slammed against the door, the wind knocked out of him and as he slid to the floor, he stared wide-eyed at Harry.

"_Crucio!"_

Harry whirled around in time to see Draco with his wand raised, his face an expression of sheer and utter glee, as this was the first time he could use this curse on a person.  A flash of light burst from his wand.  It was too late to block it entirely, but Harry managed to lessen the effect.  A pain ripped through him, causing him to stumble. He staggered for a moment.  Draco's spell had been surprisingly strong and for once, Harry wondered what would happen if he himself cast that spell.  He wanted to, but instead, he raised his wand.

"_Serpensortia!"_

A snake burst from his wand tip, just as it had with Snape whispering in Draco's ear several years ago.

"Get him," Harry commanded, pointing to Draco.  "He's trying to hurt me."

"He's a parselmouth?" he heard Lucius croak.

Lucius Malfoy was getting up, rubbing his head and licking at the blood in the corner of his mouth.  Harry turned to face him while Draco was kept busy with the snake.

"You're a tenacious brat." Lucius spat.  "Draco, stop playing around with the snake.  I may need your help."

From behind him, there was a bang and Harry thought he heard the snake scream out, but he didn't turn around.  Lucius was far more dangerous than his son and Harry didn't dare take his eyes off him.

Lucius' wand suddenly burst with bright light and cords shot toward Harry to bind him, but he was successful in repelling them until his legs were pulled out from under him.  Draco had him by his knees and was struggling to keep Harry pinned to the floor.  Harry struggled to raise his wand to cast some spell on Draco, however, something crunched down on his arm—hard.

He gasped in pain and looked over to see Lucius Malfoy's boot on his wand arm.  His wand was torn from his fingers.  Then, Harry watched in horror as Lucius, in a fit of rage, snapped Harry's wand over his knee and threw the pieces into the fire under one of the simmering cauldrons.  The fire hissed hungrily and briefly grew in brilliance as it consumed the broken wand.  Harry saw the wood split and a red feather curl against the heat.

"There. Enough of that nonsense," Malfoy muttered, removing his foot off Harry's arm.  He repeated the spell with the shining cords and this time, Harry couldn't block it.

Once Harry was bound, Draco stood up and stared down at him.  "I'm so sorry, Potter, but you chose your own fate.  I will say I'm sorry that you didn't choose your side better, for I must admit, you're very good.  You and I would have made a wonderful team…"

"Stop crowing, Draco and tell me what time the curfew starts."  Mr. Malfoy was picking up his invisibility cloak off the floor. Harry noticed that it definitely wasn't his, as it appeared larger and older.  No doubt, Malfoy had easily been able to afford one of his own.

"Ten," Draco replied.  He was holding his wand menacingly over Harry.

"Ten? I thought I told you I wanted him here during curfew so that I could get him out more safely."

"But I couldn't get him down here any later.  I tried.  I was lucky enough to get him here alone."

Lucius paced and stared at the door.

_Get him out?_ Fear began to freeze Harry as he lay on the cold stone floor.  Was Lucius going to take him to Voldemort?  Oh, God, he had to get out of this. If he showed up with Dumbledore there… He tested the cords that bound him but they only seemed to get tighter the more pressure he placed on them.

"I've got an idea," Draco said timidly.  He seemed jumpy around his father.

Lucius stared skeptically at his son and raised an eyebrow.

"It'll be easy," Draco assured.

"Then out with it." Lucius was jumpy too.

"Umm," Draco's voice was shaking.  "We put the invisibility cloak on him then I walk out with you."

"I'm not supposed to be here!" his father pointed out gruffly.

"If any professors stop us, you could just tell them there's been a death in the family and you've come to tell me.  I haven't seen Professor Snape all day—and he's probably with everyone right now, anyway, so you can say he allowed you to come.  I'll even look all upset and everything."

Lucius seemed to be mulling this over.  His son had actually come up with a feasible plan.  "All right," he said at last, and he pointed his wand at Harry's throat.  "_Nunqeium Sonorous_."

There was immediately a choking sensation that threatened to constrict Harry's breathing.  He found that he couldn't make a sound.  Things were looking grim.

Harry was levitated off the floor and turned upright before the invisibility cloak was thrown over him.

He wanted to scream, but his voice was muted.  He wanted to move, but he was held bound.  He didn't know this curse that held him, so the counter-curse was beyond him.  Desperately hoping to find something that worked, he attempted to call upon the magic power inside him, trying to direct it at the magical cords that bound him, but all he seemed to accomplish in doing was to make the cords stronger.

They had made their way up to the main floor and were walking across the great red carpet that let to the main entrance.  Frantically, Harry tried to come up with something—anything.  He squirmed, attempting to jar the invisibility cloak: make it slip, but the cords got even tighter.  Fighting against the pain from the pressure, he jerked his head madly before spotting Professor McGonagall coming their way.

"Lucius Malfoy?" she said darkly.  "I did not know you had stopped to pay a visit."  She looked up and down his full black robes and cape.

"Good evening, professor," Lucius greeted, putting on a false polite tone.  "I just stopped by to see my son about some family business.  Very unfortunate business, really."

She was eyeing him carefully.  Harry began to squirm again.  If only he could get one little bit of the cloak to slip down.

"Did you inform anyone you were coming?"

"Of course I did.  I contacted Severus Snape this morning.  Did he not tell you that I was coming?"

"I'm sorry. No, he didn't." McGonagall still didn't look like she trusted what he was saying.

Lucius bent down to speak something softly into McGonagall's ear.  "A death in the family: his grandmother."

On cue, Draco began to look terribly grieved.

"Oh," Harry couldn't tell if McGonagall had swallowed the lie or not.  "I'm…I'm most sorry.  Are you taking Draco with you?"

"No. He's just seeing me to the door," and again, the Malfoys began to move forward, guiding Harry whom they had levitated.

"Good bye, Potter," Draco said as soon as they were out of earshot of McGonagall.  "I hope you have a good time.  I've never had the chance to meet the Dark Lord before.  I'd ask you to tell me all about it, but unfortunately, I don't think you'll be able to," and with that, he marched off back toward the dungeons.

Harry gave one last attempt to dislodge the cloak.  The cords tightened.  It felt like his hands and feet were about to be severed. Still, he struggled until the pain fogged his mind and vision.  His body finally forced him to stop, and he could only watch helplessly as he was led out the door and toward the front gate.

Once well beyond on the road to Hogsmead, Mr. Malfoy grabbed Harry by the arm and touched a loose stone in the wall.

There was the familiar feeling of being dragged along by a port key and Harry's head spun until they landed on firm ground.  He immediately fell over with Lucius still holding onto him.  The invisibility cloak was pulled off him and to his relief, the cords removed.  Slowly, he sat up and massaged his wrists, which had thick, red welts where the cords had bit into his skin.

As he looked around him, there appeared to be no one about.  He was sitting by a stonewall on a small rise overlooking a field bathed in moonlight.  On a distant hill, stood the ruins of an old Scottish abbey.  A sharp whinny pierced the night air and Harry turned around to see a large gray horse tethered to a scrawny, wind beaten tree.  Its dapple coat reflected the light of the three-quarter moon and he noticed it had feathers on its legs and enormous, plate sized hooves.

Lucius roughly hoisted Harry to his feet and dragged him over to the horse.  It skittered to the side as Harry was forced to climb up behind the saddle.

"Don't you dare try anything," Lucius warned as he swung himself into the saddle.  "This Magus Mare happens to be extremely loyal to me.  If anything happens—she's been known to bludgeon men to death with her hooves." Malfoy pulled the hood to his black cloak up over his head and pulled out a mask—a Death Eater mask—and positioned it on his face before gathering up the reins.

Harry didn't know what else to do but hang on to the back of the saddle as Lucius kicked the horse in the flanks, and they started out at a canter across the field, the mare's hooves throwing clumps of sod as it went.  He bounced along on top of the animal's powerful hindquarters as they galloped up a crest toward the abbey ruin.

Lucius pulled the mare to a trot as they neared the entrance and Harry feared he'd be shaken off.  They clip-clopped across stone to an inner courtyard where other Magus Mares stood tethered.  The animal stopped near the herd, all tacked and ready to be ridden.  There were little more than a dozen.

Once the horse had stopped prancing and snorting, Lucius dismounted and pulled Harry roughly down to the ground.  Harry felt as if his arm was about to ripped out of its socket, Malfoy was pulling on him so hard.

Something then struck Harry as odd, and eased some of his anxiety.  His scar didn't hurt.  Perhaps Voldemort would come later, but for now, it seemed that he wasn't around.

Harry didn't want to look as he was led into what had once been the main chapel: the roof was gone, the windows gone, and weeds now sprouted between the stones on the floor.  He was afraid of seeing Snape and Dumbledore…

"I have brought a gift!" Lucius proclaimed loudly upon entering.

About fifteen Death Eaters turned to face him, their white masks blank.

Lucius' boots clicked across the stones as the emotionless masks watched.  It was then that Harry noticed that one Death Eater seemed to stand out from the rest.  His hair was not hidden by a hood: it hung down to his waist in a ponytail.  And he held in his long, thin fingers, a mage's staff, the stone of which was putting of a soft, green glow.

A/N: Did any of the shrewder readers out there notice what happened when Harry tried handing the Truthstone to LeSal as opposed to Severus? Hmmm….


	18. Morsmordre

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter universe.

A/N: This chapter is probably the most intense piece of writing I've done for Harry Potter.  I had just reread the line spoken by Voldemort in _Goblet of Fire_ where he asked Lucius, "You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe?" I wanted to explore what sort of things might be done that would be clean enough for JK to include in her books. I know you're waiting for the duel between Dumbledore and Voldemort, but I thought this important to put in before.  It says a lot about Lucius Malfoy, the Death Eaters, and Professor LeSal.

Chapter XVIII

Morsmordre

Salazar Snape stared at Harry longer than he should have, his black eyes wide beneath the haunting, skull mask.  Harry could hear his heart pounding in his ears in the eerie silence of the ruined chapel.  At last, Salazar said in a tone Harry wasn't expecting, "What's he doing here?" There was a hint of panic to his voice. "Lucius," he whispered, "why do you have Harry Potter _here_?"

Harry noticed LeSal's staff; it had gone from green to its usual blue.

"I thought that you could bring him to Voldemort tonight," Lucius explained.  He was gripping Harry's arm tightly.  "After he questioned your allegiance to him and asked you to show your loyalty by bringing Harry Potter to him…I thought of a wonderful plan to get the other Death Eaters on our side.  Wouldn't it be wonderful if you rode up with Harry Potter and killed him before Lord Voldemort?"  LeSal started pacing.  "After all, it's ridiculous how he goes on about this boy, and if you were able to do something in front of him that he hasn't been able to accomplish…"

"It would make him very angry," LeSal shot at Lucius.  "And I don't think we're strong enough to take him on yet."

It seemed Malfoy hadn't considered this.  His fingers dug down into Harry's arm as he came to realize that his efforts weren't being accepted as he had hoped they would have been.  "Then—yes, we aren't ready yet, but then—we can use the boy to buy time."

"Time?" LeSal stopped pacing and his staff again began to glow green.

Lucius took this as an okay to explain.  "Voldemort's not going to give you much time.  He suspects.  If you give him Potter, it…"

"Would lessen some of his suspicion," Salazar finished.

"And with the extra time, we could gain the support of the LeStranges and Pettigrew."

The white masks hid the expressions of Salazar and Lucius as they stood facing each other.  The other Death Eaters were keeping their distance.  Harry wished that he could see Salazar's face as he contemplated Lucius' words.

"It seems for the best," Lucius said hopefully.

Salazar nodded.  "It would.  And the LeStranges are valuable—I'd kill Pettigrew."

"Do you wish me to get the Death Eaters ready to ride then?"  
            Salazar paused before nodding again.

Lucius took this as the go-ahead and started to drag Harry with him.

"Leave Potter here.  I'll watch him," Salazar said abruptly and Lucuis finally let go.  "Don't worry, Harry," LeSal said quietly as Malfoy and the Death Eaters headed out of the chapel to their mounts.  "I'm going to try my best to make sure that nothing happens to you.  Just do as I say and you'll be taken care of.  I'm going to try and stall this as long as I can—give Dumbledore enough time so that by the time we arrive, Voldemort will already be dead."

Harry had no choice but to put his trust in Professor LeSal.  All misgivings he had, had to be put aside for there was nothing he could do, though what he saw next made trusting him a hard thing to do.

Lucius Malfoy came riding up on his gray mare, the reins to his horse in one hand, and the reins to another he was leading in his other hand.  As Harry soon noticed, however, the second animal was by no means a horse.  It was black.  So black that it seemed to draw in and squelch any light that touched it's coat.  It was cloven hoofed and had a lion's tail much like a unicorn only this animal was massive, like the large drays used to pull liquor wagons.  It was frothing and pawing the ground and when it tossed it's great head, he saw that twisting out of the forehead, was a very crooked horn.

Salazar walked straight up to it, his staff glowing a brighter green.  He placed a hand on the unicorn's velvet nose.  "Hush, Camlin.  You'll get to stretch your legs tonight."  He spoke in a calming voice as he took the reins from Lucius and swung up into the saddle.  "Have Potter ride with you," he ordered Lucius before allowing the unicorn to charge out of the ruins.

With a rough yank on his arm, Harry was helped back up behind Malfoy.  He held on firmly to the back of the saddle as Lucius Malfoy urged the mare after Salazar.

They were an eerie sight, moving as a frightening herd across the countryside.  The pounding of the hooves seemed to cause a small earthquake as they tore through fields.  Harnesses creaked and black capes whipped about in the wind.  At one point, Harry was nearly thrown as they jumped a hedge and he was forced to grab Lucius around the waist.

"Why don't we just Apparate?" Lucius had been riding close by Salazar's side. The Magus Mare he and Harry were riding didn't seem too pleased at the arrangement and kept throwing its head and trying to distance itself from the dark unicorn.

They jumped a stonewall, landing on a paved road on the opposite side.  Sparks flew from the shod hooves as the mares burst out onto the road.  Here, Salazar stopped.  "You're missing the finer points of being mounted upon a Magus Mare," he replied.  "It's very intimidating."

"But who are we intimidating?" Lucius asked.  "We are on our way to see the Dark Lord."

"That we are, but Lucius my friend, I thought you would like it if we first had some fun."  Salazar's mount squealed as it seemed ready to gallop off again but was being tightly restrained.

A bit of fun? These words caused a chill to run down Harry's back.

A light then flashed off down the road and with a sickening feeling, Harry realized they were headlights, heading in their direction.

"Ah, now here we go," Salazar said as he watched the approaching headlights.

Lucius withdrew his wand.  "We've got some muggles!" he yelled out and excited whoops exchanged among the party.

Harry didn't want to see this.  He didn't want to have to watch.  He found himself tense and his hands aching as he gripped tighter to the back of the saddle.  All the Death Eaters had drawn out their wands and lined up, blocking the road as the small silver car pulled to a stop.

The stereo was blaring bagpipe music.  It was turned down when a window was rolled down.  A young man with a head of fuzzy black hair stuck his head out the window.

_Oh, no_, Harry thought.  _God, no._  He desperately wanted to warn them, to yell out, but the spell still had not been lifted off his voice.  He had tried to lift it while still at Hogwarts, but hadn't succeeded.  Now he tried in true earnest again.

"Turn off the headlights, Dave, you're spooking the horses," a female voice said with concern from within the car.

The man switched to just parking lights.  "What are ya'll doing?" The man seemed American: a tourist.

"Is this some sort of odd Scottish holiday or something?" the girl asked.  "Dave, ask them why they're dressed like that.  I haven't read anything in the brochures about this."

"Would you mind telling us what you're all out here in that get-up for?"

"Maybe they're Druids."

The man turned back inside the car.  "No, dear.  I don't think they're Druids.  Druids wear white."

"Then ask them who they are."

Dave stuck his head back out of the car window, but no sooner had he when the passenger side door opened.  A woman wearing a green sweater with, _Freedom!_ Written boldly across the front, got out of the car, a camera in one hand.  As soon as she did, Dave got out too.

"So who are you? I must say, you all look very good, especially you," he said pointing, "with that staff thingy."

No one had said a word as the Magus Mares snorted and blew steam at the night air.  The unicorn squealed again, making the woman take notice of it.

"We're wizards," Lucius said at last.

"Wizards? Is that some sort of old religion—like the Druids?"

The woman was now staring at the unicorn, her face becoming more serious as if she were attempting to figure out whether what she was seeing was real or not.  Harry was still trying to get his voice back but he knew he had to try and do something.  He knew he probably looked horrible after the fight with Malfoy; his chin had been split when he had hit the floor.  Waving his hand, he attempted to get her attention.  As soon as she looked at him, he could tell that she finally sensed something wasn't right.  He pointed to the car and mouthed, "Get out.  Get out of here! Get out."

Her eyes widened, and he knew she understood.  Dave, on the other hand…

"Meg, gimme your camera.  I want to take a picture of this guy's horse that he has done up like a unicorn.  Isn't it the coolest thing?  Like right out of a movie."

"Dave…" she whispered.

"Thanks," and Dave just took the camera from her hand and started to focus the lens on the unicorn.  "Good thing we got 800 speed film."

"Dave…" Meg said a little more urgently and pulled on his sleeve.

"Uh…what, dear—just a minute."

"That boy, _Dave_…"

"What boy?" He was still focusing the camera.

"The one that looks like he's just been beaten," she whispered softly.

"Uh huh…what?"  He finally lowered the camera and spotted Harry, who repeated his silent warning.  "What the hell?  Meg…" he said after a moment, "why don't you get in the car? I'll figure out what's going on here." He turned angrily at Salazar.  "What's going on here?" he demanded to know. "Why's that young man with you all bruised up?"

            All at once, the Death Eaters laughed.  It was then that Harry was finally able to break the spell that had been keeping him silent.

"Get out of here!" he screamed.  "They'll kill you!" Get out of…"

Salazar's staff flashed and Harry felt a cold sensation seize him and his throat went numb, his vocal cords made useless.

But Harry's words had been enough to make the muggle couple scramble to get in their car.

One large Death Eater on a fat roan pointed his wand at the car and then proceeded to cause the doors to lock and unlock in succession.  Dave somehow managed to get in first while Meg was still pulling on the handle of her door.

"What's happening?" she screamed.

The Death Eaters seemed to find this amusing and laughed while Meg cried and Dave tried unsuccessfully to get her inside the car.  After a while, he made up his mind to get out—but couldn't.  Another Death Eater made the windows roll up and Malfoy shot a spell at the hood of the car, making the engine stop and the lights go out.

Then Lucius called out, "_Mobilus!"_ and the car began to roll backwards.

Meg continued to cry, pulling on the door handles while the group of Death Eaters rode close at hand.  They guided the car down the road, over a rise and down a hill.  At the bottom, lay a pair of railroad tracks.

The car was stopped just before the tracks.  Malfoy and Salazar had stayed behind at the crest of the hill so Harry got to see as they converged upon the couple.  He could hear their spells and Meg's screams and wails, but all he saw were the horses and flowing black robes of the Death Eaters.

How could Salazar…Professor LeSal, let this continue?

"You want to join in on the festivities?" asked Malfoy, turning to Salazar. "I'll hold Camlin for you."

Salazar didn't respond.  He just seemed to be staring intently on the horrid and cruel scene.

"You know that you do.  And some of the newer recruits want to see—what you and LeStranges did to those aurors is legendary."

Harry swore that he caught Salazar flinch.

"No, Lucius.  But you're free to go.  I'll watch Potter." Harry was struck at how much Salazar's voice suddenly sounded like Professor Snape's.

Lucius hoisted his right leg over the mare's neck and slid out of the saddle.  "I wouldn't dare try running away from him," he snarled at Harry while handing the reins to Salazar.  He then marched off down the hill, wand out.

"I'm sorry that you have to witness this, Harry," Salazar said quietly after Lucius had gone.  "But you must understand how important it is for us to buy time.  The time that these muggles buy us will be the end of Voldemort."  Realizing that Harry couldn't respond, he pointed his staff and Harry felt feeling return to his throat.

"How could you?" Harry finally asked as soon as he felt confident his voice had returned.  "You're allowing people to be tortured!"

"In order to save many more from meeting the same fate."

"But it's still wrong." The whole scene before him was so sick that he could not see any excuse for it.

The Death Eaters had set the _Imperious Curse_ on Dave, and were laughing as they ordered him to drive the car out onto the tracks and park.  He could hear Meg's desperate cries, "Why? Why are you doing this?"

"And what about the aurors? Did he mean the Longbottoms?" Harry felt suddenly viscous. "Is it true then?  You did torture them?"

It took a while for Salazar to respond.  He had gone back to studying the stone in his staff as Harry had become accustomed to him doing.  Only this time, there was a mask hiding his expression.

"Voldemort," Salazar began shakily, "destroyed my life when he gave me this.  It controls me, rules over my life and I can never be rid of it until I die.  And my life wasn't the only one he's destroyed, either.  He's ruined Severus' and most of my close mates from school.  He's killed so many—your parents.  And he doesn't have to kill to take a life; he keeps taking away lives by binding them to him.  I have lost all hope for Lucius Malfoy and I am fast losing hope that his son can be saved.  There's no telling how many lives would have been saved—be lived more fully—if Voldemort had never existed.  So you see, he must be destroyed at all costs.  He needs to be killed." Salazar paused and gripped his staff tighter, the stone growing to a brilliant, blinding, green.  "That night he was stopped by you…I knew he was not truly finished.  I can sense him, and I knew he was still alive—but weak.  I had to find him and end it.  Frank Longbottom and his wife were the first aurors to the scene—they came with Severus.  I figured if anyone knew where Voldemort had gone, it would be them. Frank was real good, top notch auror.  I was with the LeStranges who were bent on finding Voldemort as well—though, for other reasons.  I had to get that information from the Longbottoms—just had to, you see?"

Harry did see.  He now saw Professor Salazar Snape for what he truly was.

"I do see.  You hate Voldemort," he said slowly.  "You hate him so much that the hate—it's made you bloody mad.  Willing to torture and be just as cruel as him in order to reach your goal."

It was so clear now.  He no longer had to worry about Salazar's loyalties, for he knew where they lay: they were with himself.  To himself and his festering hatred for Lord Voldemort.

There was no response to Harry's remark and they were left to listen to Meg's screams and the distant whistle of a train echo across the still starry night sky.

"Dave! Get out of the car! Oh, God! Get out of the car! What have you done to him? What have you done to my husband? Why? We never did anything wrong to you. Dave! There's a train! Dave…"

"_Morsmordre!"_ someone screamed, illuminating the sky with the skull and snake of the Dark Mark as the Death Eaters turned away, leaving Meg sobbing and screaming for her husband's life. 

The rumble of the train got closer.

"Do something," Harry pleaded.  "You've bought your time.  Now do something!  You can't just let this happen."

But Salazar did nothing.

Lucius approached, breathing heavily.  He took the reins back from Salazar and climbed back into the saddle.  As soon as he had his feet in the stirrups, Lucius and Salazar turned their mounts and headed up the road, leaving the scene behind them just as there was a terrific explosion.


	19. Phoenix Song

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter universe.

Chapter IXX

Phoenix Song

Harry felt numb as he clung on the back of Lucius Malfoy's robes in order to stay on as they cantered across the countryside.  The voice of the screaming Meg still rang clearly in his mind along with terrible ripping of metal as the train had smashed through the small car.  His only hope now for this night to be redeemed was for Voldemort to be dead and Dumbledore triumphant when they got to wherever they were going.

It seemed as if the moon stood still, as if little time had passed.  The horses and riders crashed into a thicket set in the bowl of a valley and Harry hung on tighter.

As they rode through the trees, it seemed more ominous than the Forbidden Forest.  There was dark magic at work—he could feel it.  There were no birds, no crickets, just the feeling of hidden eyes watching as they wound through the knarled branches.  Salazar was riding in front with Lucius following close behind.  Harry turned around to see a long line of Death Eaters behind him.  Their masks still made him shudder.

They seemed to be approaching a clearing when a cloaked figure darted out from the brushes and stood in the center of the path.  When it moved, Harry got a glimpse of a silver hand.

"Salazar," the figure piped up, "what are you doing here with so many of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters, hmm?"

"None of your business, Pettigrew." Salazar sounded disgusted.  "What I come to see him about is my business, not yours." He sounded so much like an agitated Snape.

"Ah, but the Dark Lord is busy. Too busy for you."

"Busy, Pettigrew?" It was Lucius this time.  "I thought he told you to speak to Salazar with more respect."

Pettigrew's beady eyes shifted to Lucius.

It was then that Harry realized something: evidently, Dumbledore had not yet fought Voldemort.

"But he is busy all the same, though—he may see you, Salazar.  He is speaking with your cousin as of…" Pettigrew's eyes had remained on Lucius, despite the fact he was speaking to Salazar; however, he seemed to have noticed Harry.  He stopped in mid-sentence.  "You have brought Harry Potter with you?"

Salazar nervously glanced back.  "Again, it is none of your business, Pettigrew.  However, we shall wait for the Dark Lord to see us when he is ready."

Pettigrew's black rodent-like eyes were darting back and forth between Harry, Lucius, and Salazar.  Madly, Harry wondered why Salazar did nothing as Pettigrew retreated into the woods. He was going to give them away!

Harry's heart pounded as he thought if there was anything that he could do, but it was only a few minutes before Pettigrew returned.

"The Dark Lord wishes to see you, Salazar."

"Just me?"

"No," Pettigrew said in a squeaky voice, "You may all come.  Follow me," and they followed after the short dark figure into the clearing.  "My Lord," he announced.

The light of the moon lit the clearing and in it stood a solitary, tall, skeletal thin figure that had hands like white spiders.  Facing him was Professor Snape, though his face was hidden by one of the white masks, and what looked to be another Harry Potter.

"Salazar seems to bring another Harry Potter with him, my Lord."

All moisture left Harry's mouth and seemed to come through the palms of his hands as that familiar white face with red eyes turned to him.  An odd expression seemed to cross his countenance as he looked between the two Snapes and Harries. 

"What is going on here?" The tone of voice was quiet but furious.  His eyes scanned over all of the mounted Death Eaters next.  "Salazar, what is the meaning of this?"

Salazar's body seemed to shrink away at the question.  Harry glanced over at Dumbledore and Snape.  Snape had taken out his wand and Dumbledore seemed poised, waiting for a reason to give himself away.  There was nothing that Harry could do at the moment; Death Eaters surrounded him and all had their attention on him.  Salazar slid down his horse and bowed before Voldemort, however, Voldemort just brushed past him and walked over to Harry.

"Lucius, is this Harry Potter?"

"I believe so, my Lord.  I took him from Hogwarts this evening.  My son, Draco, helped me." Harry could feel Malfoy's body tense.  He also hoped that Professor Snape had just heard this line.

"Tell me this as well: why are all of my Death Eaters out and clearly very busy without my knowledge?" He spoke then over his shoulder, "Is this your doing, Salazar?"

Salazar's voice sounded meek. "Yes, my Lord."

"Why?" Voldemort withdrew his wand.  He was so angry that he didn't let LeSal get out a word before saying, "No, there's something I want to know first.  Tell me—enlighten me, if you will, on why there are _two_ Harry Potters?"

"Um…. I don't know, my Lord." LeSal's voice was shaking.  "I don't know.  Lucius brought him to me to give to you.  I don't know…"

"You don't know?" Voldemort chewed upon the words.  "You don't know.  Well, I happen to know something that you don't, and something that Severus doesn't appear to understand, either: there happens to be only _one_ Harry Potter."  Harry looked over to Snape and Dumbledore; they had begun to approach Voldemort.  "This is an example of why I have power and you don't; because I understand simple things such as this.  Now since there is only _one Harry Potter_, then one—or both—of your Harry Potters are not the real Harry Potter.  And if one happens to be real, I can guarantee that the one holding the fake Harry Potter, will be severely punished." He seemed ready to spit.

Voldemort stepped right up to the side of Malfoy's horse and placed his wand under Harry's chin.  "Now tell me who you are." He spoke softly and close to Harry's face.

Harry looked straight into those red eyes and refused to answer.

"My Lord," Lucius suddenly spoke up. "If it is parseltongue you are trying to speak to him, this one understands.  I discovered he was a parselmouth while taking him from the school.  He set a snake on my son." Voldemort had been speaking in parseltongue…

"Indeed?" Voldemort smiled a horrible smile.  "Well, Salazar, seems you're the lucky one.  Your cousin, on the other hand, who might his guest be?" When he turned to look at Severus, he seemed surprised that he had come nearer.  Voldemort lowered his wand momentarily.

It was then that Harry thought of something he could do and it made his heart pound heavily in his chest at the thought.  He had to even this out.  Voldemort was full strength and now had his Death Eaters at his side.  It was an utterly insane plan, but if he acted quickly while Voldemort was still close enough…

Glancing briefly over at Dumbledore, who had drawn out a wand, Harry jumped off the back of the horse, landed straight on top of Voldemort and knocked him to the ground.

He was horrible and bony and seemed to be hard to find in his expansive black robes, but Harry managed in finding his wand hand.  Harry's scar was burning and it only became worse as Voldemort placed on hand directly on his scar and seemed to release an energy that caused excruciating pain.  But Harry felt the smooth wood of Voldemort's wand, and he gripped it tightly refusing to allow anything to make him let go.

Voldemort was still holding the wand and he managed to point it directly at Harry.  The whole night was blocked out.  It seemed as if the Death Eaters, Snape, and Dumbledore had all vanished and it was just he against Voldemort.  The pain in his scar seemed almost too much to bear but somehow, through the blur of his tears, he was able to focus on one thing, and that was keeping hold of Voldemort's wand.  Then he closed his eyes and imagined himself standing near Snape and Dumbledore.  Gathering all the strength he could muster, Harry yelled out the spell to Disapperate.

At the same exact time, a chilling voice cracked the air, "_Avada Kedavra!"_

There was brilliant flash of light, both green and red.  The wand burned hot in Harry's hand as the two spells coursed through it at once.  It felt as if the wood was about to split.  A jarring feeling that caused his scar to hurt worse than he ever dreamed imaginable, ripped through him.  It ran down his arm, directly into his chest where it threatened to take his breath away.  Just as this happened, there seemed to be another flash of light from behind him.  An outside white light and he found himself being whisked away.

His whole body seemed to spin until everything became still and he felt cool forest moss under his head and body.

A choking sensation pushed its way into his throat and he had to roll over as he threw up.  When he moved his hand up to wipe his mouth, he came to realize that he was still holding the wand.

He forced himself to sit up and Snape was staring at him, a look of relief nearly coming to his face—then another expression as he saw the wand Harry was holding.

Voldemort's face suddenly bore a similar look of surprise, but one of horror as well.  Harry realized that the outside spell that had broken whatever magical lock he had been held in with Voldemort had come from Dumbledore and it seemed that Voldemort now understood that he had a powerful wizard standing before him and he was without his wand.  His red eyes were wide and his lipless mouth hung slightly ajar.  He stared for a moment at his wand in Harry's hands before he turned his attention to the Harry that stood before him.  That Harry lifted a wand, an old and worn one that looked as if it had been carved from a piece of driftwood, bleached by the sun.

There was a spectacular flash of light, like a star exploding.  It was one of the most brilliant things Harry had ever seen and as it faded, there stood Dumbledore, white beard glistening in the moonlight and robes of a deep purple, shimmering.

The wide-eyed expression that had been displayed on Voldemort's face was now twisted.  He looked—afraid.

"Salazar!" he screamed.  "Bring me your staff!"

LeSal had taken up a position apart from Voldemort, the Death Eaters, and Dumbledore.  At the mention of his name, he seemed to panic, but he abruptly stopped and instead of running away, his face contorted into a poisonous grin.  The stone in his staff grew in brightness, just as it had before he had killed Fudge, and he pointed it at Voldemort.

"Traitor!" Voldemort screeched.  "Death Eaters," in a very undignified way, he seemed to scramble over to Lucius Malfoy.

Harry was prepared to watch the death of Voldemort when he came to realize something:  Avada Kedavra alone could not kill Voldemort.  That is what he, as a baby, had proven.  He had to be destroyed another way and it was doubtful whether Salazar had the knowledge or ability to carry it out.  If he did succeed in casting Avada Kedavra, Voldemort might once again be reduced to an invisible wraith and wander for another ten years before finding a way to return.  He had to be stopped now and Dumbledore had to be the one to do it.  Then, quite suddenly, Salazar was knocked off his feet.  A giant snake was wrapping itself around his legs.

The next few seconds were a blur.  Malfoy fell off his horse and yelped as Voldemort pressed one of his fingers into his left arm then promptly snatched Malfoy's wand and faced Dumbledore.

Severus Snape rushed over to Salazar who had, in a flash of green light from his staff, managed to hold off Nagini.  He now stared stunned at a gray haired woman with no legs that lay in place of the snake, dead.

All the while, the mounted Death Eaters were creating a circle that was fast enclosing Dumbledore and Voldemort.  Snape left LeSal's side and rushed over.

"Where are the others?" LeSal yelled out.  "We need to summon the others.  We need to send someone for the others!"  He had stood up, staff ready.

The others… Moody, Lupin, Sirius.  Harry struggled to his feet.  This was wrong.  Voldemort still had his Death Eaters and soon there would be more.

Someone had to get the others.  Gripping Voldemort's wand, Harry thought of the grounds outside of Hogwarts and tried to Disapperate.  Nothing happened. He looked at the enchanted woods around him, remembered feeling the strange powers as he had ridden through.  He needed to get out of there.

Instantly, he spotted Malfoy's loose Magus Mare and he forced his overtaxed body to run toward the Death Eaters and lunged for the animal's reins.  It pitched and screamed before Harry could get a foot in the stirrup and climb up.  Once in the saddle, he managed to catch a quick look from Dumbledore and that was all he needed.  It was up to him to get help.

He fought briefly with the Magus Mare before spurring it off into the forest.  As he disappeared, he knew someone had come to notice he had taken off and he heard someone shout, "_Impedimenta!"_ but Harry was able to turn and block the jinx.

He urged his mount on, though it seemed to be fighting him at nearly every step, but it was good to have the mare for it seemed to know it's way through the woods.  He ducked his head low by the mane to keep his face from being torn by the claw-like branches.

As soon as he broke free into a field, Harry found himself confronted with Death Eaters Apparating before him, ready to head into the thicket.  Again, Harry concentrated on the grounds of Hogwarts and tried to Disapparate.  Just as he heard some curses being sent his way, he felt himself being pulled away from the scene.

The Magus Mare traveled with him.  There was no telling how far he had gone but all Harry was concerned with, besides feeling relieved at seeing the school, was finding Sirius and Lupin.

Just as he was about to dismount and head through the front doors, he spotted a large dark figure moving at the edge of the Forbidden Forest with a boarhound at its side.  Harry galloped across the lawn.

"Hagrid!"

"Harry?" Hagrid lifted his oil lantern.  Immediately, he spotted the cut on Harry's chin and no doubt the Malfoy's mare was suspicious.  "What's wrong? What happened?"

"They're in trouble: Dumbledore, Snape.  Where's Sirius and Lupin?  I need to find them."

"Dumbledore in trouble?" This made Hagrid panic.  "Where is he? Oh, God.  He's out against…"

"I need Sirius and Lupin and some aurors," Harry interrupted.

"They're at the Ministry.  But don't you go.  I'm going to…"

"There's no time." Harry's whole body was trembling with adrenaline.  "The Ministry, where is it?  I'm going there now."

"They'd be at the Minister's house.  Near Diagon Alley, but down Hogsmeade Avenue, right of Gringotts.  But Harry you can't Appar…"

Harry couldn't stay and have Hagrid help him.  There was something strange happening—as if he could sense what was going on back in the clearing.  Praying that he could Apparate such a distance, Harry imagined Diagon Alley as he held Voldemort's wand and Disapparated again.

The journey wasn't easy this time.  It was long and the spinning was so horrible that he was about to be sick, yet could still feel the Magus Mare beneath him.  Then he worried about splinching.  All of him _seemed_ to be coming along, but he didn't know about the horse.  He knew Magus Mares were capable of Apparating with their wizard riders but—it was loyal to Malfoy, so what if the mare got splinched?

All four feet of the mare's hooves landed with a clatter on the cobblestones of Diagon Alley.  It reared up in frustration of having been taken so far from its master, but Harry was not ready to climb down off its back yet.  He didn't know how far the Minister's house was and he'd get there quicker with four strong legs under him rather than two wobbly ones.  He was already fighting the light-headedness that came before passing out.

Gringotts loomed ahead, and Harry forced the mare into a canter, turning right down Hogsmeade Avenue.  The mare's iron shoes were sending out sparks as they pounded the cobbles.  Harry began to pass massive buildings: a library, a wizard's museum, and the very building that housed the Ministry of Magic.

Then he saw a large mansion.  It looked like a Tudor manor he'd find in the countryside.  It was gated and a very surly looking wizard stood guard.  Harry pulled up in front of him.

"I need to see the Minister immediately." His throat felt raw from the cold night air and it was burned from stomach acid.

"On what business?" The wizard was eyeing him cautiously and Harry knew he must look a fright.

"On business of Albus Dumbledore," Harry replied.  "He has guests here tonight, and I need to see them now.  Something horrible has happened."

The guard's eyes widened and he turned and spoke into a box in the wall behind him.  It glowed as he spoke and he heard Mr. Weasley's voice respond, "Oh Merlin! Harry Potter? Let him in now."

The guard did as Mr. Weasley asked and with a tap of his wand to the lock, the gate swung open.  Harry kicked the horse and went galloping up the drive.  Then the same strange feeling he had had before flooded through his mind.  Suddenly, it was as if he could see what was happening back in the clearing.  There was a sound ringing in his ears.  A beautiful sound that he had only heard twice before: once while in the Chamber of Secrets, and the other when he faced Voldemort last: phoenix song. A circle of Death Eaters surrounded him.  Beyond this circle, he could see a dark figure lying motionless on the ground—Snape.  LeSal stood over him, staff shining a bright blue.  Within the circle, standing to face him, was Dumbledore.  He was frightening and glorious at the same time.  His eyes were blazing with a powerful light and a whole glow seemed to emanate from his body.  But then it began to fade.  The light in Dumbledore's eyes dimmed as a look of pain crossed his face.  He motioned to grip his left arm, but somehow managed to bring himself to keep his wand steady.

A shrill shriek of a laugh went out, "You're too late! You're an old man Dumbledore, and you're too late!"

"Harry!"

Harry had to shake the image from his mind as several familiar voiced called out his name.  The mare skidded to a halt before them.  A pair of strong hands helped him down from the saddle.  When he was placed on the ground, his legs gave way beneath him and the same strong hands carried him inside.  He spotted a dragon's tooth dangling as an earring.

"Dumbledore!" Harry blurted out. "He's in trouble."

"Trouble?" he heard Lupin's voice.  It was hinged with worry.

"Voldemort's got all his Death Eaters.  Dumbledore needs help.  It's all gone wrong…"

He'd gotten his message out.  He heard people scrambling around him.  Wizards hurrying out the door.  He thought he glimpsed Mrs. Weasley's face.  This made him feel safe enough to let the darkness that had been fighting to overpower him, sweep over his eyes.


	20. The Headmaster

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter universe.

Chapter XX

The Headmaster

Harry wasn't quite sure what he was staring at the next morning when he opened his eyes.  All he saw was red.  It was a brilliant scarlet that seemed nearly transparent—yet, it also seemed to snatch and contain the morning rays of light.  It shimmered gloriously.

He lay there just staring at the color, his head resting softly on a down-filled pillow. For a while, he squinted, trying to make out what he was looking at, but it was just a blur, as he didn't have his glasses on.

Not that it mattered much. He couldn't move, or was at least convinced of it.  His whole body ached.  Slowly, as he began to think of why he was in this state, the previous night's events swam to the surface of his mind: the _Cruciates Curse_ that Draco Malfoy had set on him: the tight cords that had bound him: the time he had spent clinging onto the back of a Magus Mare: and the struggle with Voldemort.

He sat bolt upright as he remembered the vision that had come to him as he had ridden up the Minister's drive.  The one of Snape on the ground and of Dumbledore—clutching at a failing heart—and that laugh…

Blindly, he reached around for his glasses.  There was a nightstand at his bedside and his fingers brushed against some medicine bottles before them.  As he situated them on his nose, the red thing in the room fluttered and landed softly at his side.  Harry turned to Fawkes' head brushing at his shoulder.

While it was comforting, at the same time it greatly disturbed him.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was still raw.

Fawkes just blinked back.

With a bit of determination, Harry forced his aching body out of bed.  At first, he was afraid that his legs would decide not to hold him.  Shakily, he stood up, grabbing a bedpost for support then Fawkes flew over and rested on his shoulder.  The bird was big: the size of a goose or swan.  Harry's shoulder wouldn't have been large enough to hold the bird several years ago, but now, somehow the weight of the bird wasn't what he expected and he also managed to feel stronger with it there.

He snatched his robes where they had been draped over a chair and started hunting for his shoes.  Once he had slipped them on, he hurried out of the room with Fawkes clinging to his shoulder.

"Harry, dear.  What are you doing up?" came a startled Mrs. Weasley as Harry hurried down the stairs.

"I want to go back to Hogwarts," he said quickly.

Mr. Weasley had stood up and watched as Mrs. Weasley ran over.  "You shouldn't be up so soon." She looked ready to hug him but she seemed unsure what to do since he had a phoenix perched on his shoulder at the moment.

"Dumbledore," Harry asked nervously, "where is he?"

Mrs. Weasley turned to her husband.  Arthur walked over. "We don't know, Harry.  We don't know.  He and Voldemort had both disappeared by the time the aurors got there."

Harry swallowed.  "And Professor Snape?"

Mr. Weasley's face showed signs that he hadn't slept the night before and there seemed to be wrinkles on his face that Harry hadn't quite remembered seeing before.  "Sirius Black succeeded in bringing him back, but…I will be going to Hogwarts to check on him and Mr. Lupin."

"Is Lupin all right—and Sirius?"

"Both were injured, but will recover."

"Can I go with you?"

"What?"

"Can I go with you when you go to the school?" Harry asked.

Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to like that much.  "I think he should stay here, Arthur.  He needs to rest before he faces the students.  Harry, you've been through enough already."

"No," argued Harry.  Fawkes' presence was definitely making him feel stronger.  "I want to find out what happened to Dumbledore and Professor Snape." It was strange.  Him and Ron had joked about Snape getting knocked off numerous times but now that he might actually be faced with the possibility… "May I go back?"

"Arthur…" Mrs. Weasley placed a hand on Harry's free shoulder.  "I don't want him under anymore stress.  He needs rest."

"But Molly, I think that if he wishes to come a long—he deserves to."

Mrs. Weasley frowned and let out a sigh.  "Well, you take care of yourself." She attempted to smooth his hair.

"I think he's already proven that he's quite capable of doing just that," Mr. Weasley commented fondly.  "Now we'll be leaving by portkey whenever you're ready."

"I'm ready now," Harry stated firmly.

"All right then.  Off we go."

"Not without breakfast!" Mrs. Weasley said sharply.

Harry turned to face her.  "I need to find out what happened," he said kindly.  Her eyes began to well with tears.  She was actually a few inches shorter than him, so when she finally decided to hug him, her head only came to his nose.

"I'm worried about Dumbledore too," she whispered.  She had started to cry and Harry suddenly wanted to as well but then Arthur came and pulled Molly away.  He held her for a while until she managed to gain some composure.  "See to it that Harry gets rest.  I don't want any Ministry Officials asking him all sorts of questions."

"I'll see that they keep their distance.  I have say over that now."

As Harry followed Mr. Weasley to the garden, he noticed that he now walked with a distinct limp.  Harry then remembered Percy.  He began to think about Voldemort.  Had Voldemort survived?

His mind suddenly flashed him images much like last night only this one was of a fireplace.  He had seen it somewhere before, but he wasn't quite sure where.  A dream perhaps—yes.  It had been a dream.  Pain shot through his scar and he forced the image from his mind.

"Ready?" Mr. Weasley asked, stopping by an iron hitching post with the bust of a unicorn mounted on top.

Harry nodded.  "What about Fawkes?"

"Um," Mr. Weasley thought.  "He should be able to take care of himself."

Together, they grabbed the hitching post and Harry found himself being pulled away.  His feet touched ground in Hogsmeade.  Fawkes had remained fixed to his shoulder the whole time.

"Minister." Harry heard Mad-Eye-Moody's voice.  "You traveled alone?" He almost sounded as if he were scolding.

"Just to here, Alastor.  Besides, I had the great Harry Potter with me." Mr. Weasley said this attempting to sound cheerful but there was a darkness underneath that could not be covered up.

Harry followed Mr. Weasley and Moody back to Hogwarts.  Along the way, he noticed that Moody's eye kept swiveling around to peer at Fawkes.  He followed them up the front steps and through the main doors.

The entrance hall was lit by golden shafts of light filtering through the windows and dancing off the dust floating in the air.  They weren't walking quickly as Mr. Weasley's crippled pace was slow, but as they neared the end, Harry saw standing there: Sirius, Lupin with a bandage tied up around his jaw, and Professor Snape, leaning on a pair of crutches.  When Harry spotted them, he took off running, feeling somehow rejuvenated.

Fawkes released his shoulder and flapped his great gold and scarlet wings.

When Harry stopped and stood before them, all three had merely glanced at him before their eyes landed on Fawkes who fluttered down to rest once again on Harry's shoulder.  The expressions that then crossed their faces were not what he had been expecting.

Sirius started to blink hard as if fighting back tears as he continued to stare at the bird.  Lupin had a similar expression only he put a hand to his head and pulled on his cheek and a tear actually fought its way free and ran down his nose.  Severus Snape had stared at the bird too, but he had turned away, hiding his face.

Harry now knew; Dumbledore was dead.

*

The halls didn't feel the same.  Nothing was the same.  There was always something amiss in the week that followed.  Classes were solemn and there were no disciplinary problems; even Filch was not so mean, nor Mrs. Norris so menacing, and the only thing that Harry saw Peeves do was push over a suit of armor once while he floated glumly down the hall.

There was no place to get away from it and Harry had the added pain of having Fawkes refuse to leave his side.  Once he went down to Hagrid's hut to inquire on how to care for a phoenix, but Hagrid had been so desperately miserable and had shed fresh tears at the sight of the bird that Harry had not returned.

The following week was the week of final testing; they had not been cancelled.  Now Harry had to face his O.W.L.s.

Monday morning he sat staring blankly at the pages of his Potions notebook.  He wasn't retaining anything that he studied.  His mind kept wandering.  There was a question that nagged at his mind and over everyone's in the magical community: what had happened to Voldemort?

From what he had heard, by the time Sirius and Lupin had got there, they had only found Severus and Salazar Snape wounded—Severus more critically—and the aurors dispatched to take care of the Death Eaters had informed that Voldemort's followers were fleeing.  _Something_ had happened to Voldemort.

It was always then that Harry was reminded of the visions he had had and sometimes when he thought of them, he'd see more.  More of the fireplace and of the dark interior of a manor that looked as if it hadn't been lived in for fifty years.  Then suddenly, one of a graveyard—and a headstone that read: TOM RIDDLE.

Harry looked up from his notebook.  Now he knew what he was seeing.

He slammed the book closed and headed out of the common room. He had to find Sirius.

However, before he could get to the staff's quarters, he was stopped in the hall.  There was an argument and Snape's voice was echoing up ahead.

"You know very well that Draco Malfoy participated!" he yelled.  "I have already spoken with Minerva and the house heads and we all agree that he is to be _expelled_."

Harry backed up.  This sounded like one argument he didn't wish to accidentally step into.

"You can't expel a student without a headmaster!" Professor LeSal argued back.

"You can with the approval of the Deputy Headmaster and House Heads."

"You're dooming that boy if you do, Severus," LeSal spoke more quietly.  "You're resigning him to our own fate."

Snape paused before saying, "He's already lost."

"Maybe—but I'm not so ready to give up."

"Look what he did to Potter!" Snape said more loudly.  "If it hadn't been partly for Draco Malfoy, Albus might still be here with us."

"Don't you dare," LeSal shot venomously.  "Don't you _dare_ put that blame on that boy's shoulders."

"I don't. Not all of it.  Though someone does carry most of the burden."

There was dead silence.  Harry dared to peer around the corner.  It was a standoff.  Each Snape was staring down the other in the lone corridor.

"That wasn't my fault, Severus," LeSal whispered.  "I tried to stall…"

"Yes, you did—and I don't even want to _ask_ about the appalling death of that muggle I read about in the _Daily Prophet_."  Snape appeared very cold while the look on LeSal's face was mixture of pain and anger.

"I did what I had to do," he stated firmly.

"You did wrong." Snape continued to stare down his cousin even though LeSal had averted his eyes to the floor.  "Dumbledore gave each of us a chance—a last chance.  I've been able to fulfill my part of the bargain of mine.  The weakness for both of us was power and the lure of the Dark Arts.  I came to understand that, but I don't think you have.  You went back on your promise and disrespected the chance Dumbledore gave you almost immediately on that night when you went to the Longbottoms with the LeStranges.  I never said anything, hoping that that would be it, but you've failed again."

LeSal was still staring down at the floor.  "I tried, Severus," he said between his teeth.  "I didn't know that it would take so long for you and Dumbledore…"

"You didn't have to know!" Snape interrupted furiously. "All you had to know was that when Voldemort was in trouble, he'd summon the Death Eaters.  But you didn't wait for that and I know why.  You were afraid of having Voldemort destroyed without you."

Ever so slowly, Salazar lifted his head and looked Snape in the eyes.  "I suppose I won't trouble you anymore then," he said quietly. "Can't have me responsible for getting anyone else killed." He turned away and walked steadily down the hall. "You may tell whoever the new headmaster is that I resign—and to save you the trouble, I'll take Draco home and inform Lucius and Narcissa of the school's decision to have him expelled." He said nothing more and disappeared through the front mirror.

Snape stood alone in the middle of the hall.  Momentarily, he allowed his shoulders to slump and he rubbed his eyes with his fingers before he gripped a cane he was now using and hobbled off.

"Harry?"

Harry whirled around and for some reason, as if by instinct, he reached for his wand.  Hermione and Ron were standing behind him—they were holding hands.  Right now, however, they were preoccupied with staring suspiciously at his wand hand.

"Um—Harry? You okay there, chap?" Ron asked hesitantly.

Harry, realizing what he had done, lowered the wand and slipped it back into his robes.  He just stared at them for a while, studying their locked hands.  It occurred to him how much he had drifted apart lately.  Since when had Ron and Hermione started walking around holding hands? He continued to stand there, staring.

Finally, Ron lifted an eyebrow.  "Are you there? Earth to Harry Potter."

Harry forced himself out of his daze.  "Uh…yea…sorry." He forced a smile.

"He's cracked," Ron noted to Hermione.

"_Ron_! He's been through so much, he doesn't need you…"

"I know. Geesh, Hermione.  Harry, don't take that the wrong way. It's just that," he paused, "you know. You been through a lot but—you're starting to make me worried.  Why, I've hardly even _seen_ you."

They stood there awkwardly before Hermione made a suggestion. "Why don't we all go to breakfast, shall we? We've got tests today."

Harry came along and headed toward the great hall until he remembered what he had intended to do.  At the same time, though, he wondered if just a few minutes having breakfast with his friends couldn't be spared. 

"So what are Fred and George planning on doing?" he asked, trying to start up a conversation.

"I don't know. I don't think they do. Though, Fred has a wicked idea." Ron allowed Hermione to walk ahead and he hung back to walk beside Harry. "Father needs a new Minister of the Department of Magical Games and Sports and Fred has decided to apply for it.  They can't find anyone right now, so he's sure to get it."

"What about George?"

"George—you won't believe this. He wants to teach."

"George? Teaching?" This sounded hard for even Hermione to believe.

"Yeah. That is what he says he wants to do. However, the only subjects he thinks his N.E.W.T.s scores will be good enough on are Muggle Studies and Potions and he wants to stay in Britain right now, and of course, those positions are already filled here."

They were just about to enter the great hall when Professor McGonagall came through the doors and stood before them.

"Oh, just the person I wanted to see. Mr. Potter, would you mind coming with me for a moment?" she was looking at him in her usual stern way but she didn't seem angry.

"Yes, Professor," he replied and followed after exchanging a questioning glance with Ron and Hermione.

Once they were out of earshot, McGonagall inquired, "Are you doing all right, Harry?" She sounded awkward about it.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose."

McGonagall stopped and sighed.  "From what I've heard you have seen an awful lot that someone your age shouldn't have, but you've been a very brave boy." Her eyes seemed distant even though they were looking at him. "Or, as a colleague of mine put it, 'an extremely courageous young man who proved himself to be a capable wizard far beyond his years.' You impressed a great many people with what you did, including that stint where you Apparated all the way from Hogwarts to Diagon Alley.  It's not every wizard that can Apparate from the Scottish Highlands to London, and it's certainly no ordinary one who can do that shortly after just learning to Apparate."

Harry hadn't even thought of his Apparating as being one of his greater feats of the evening.

"But after all that has happened, I am sure that it has taken its toll on you.  There are many of us who are concerned about how you are doing."

"I'm feeling fine, Professor," Harry assured.  "All the aches and pains are gone."

"I do not mean in that sense, Harry." McGonagall's face actually appeared to soften and a look of genuine concern crossed her countenance.

"Oh." Harry looked down the hall after where Ron and Hermione had disappeared. "I'll be okay."

McGonagall didn't seem too convinced. "Well, I've spoken with your professors, and they have all agreed that you don't have to take your O.W.L.s just now.  I'm not sure when, but I highly doubt you can perform well on them at this time."

This caught Harry by surprise. "I don't?"

"Not this week.  We'll be discussing it further to decide exactly when you'll take them. But now, I don't want you telling your friends about this. This is a very unusual and individual case."

"Minerva," Remus Lupin interrupted. "Oh, hello Harry." He was approaching from the direction of the main entrance.  "Professor McGonagall.  The Minister and members of the board of school governors is here and your presence is needed."

"The Minister of Magic?" But she hardly had time to ask before Mr. Weasley rounded the corner flanked by the board of governors, Professors Snape, Flitwick, Sprout, and Sirius Black.  This, Harry found extremely odd.

When they approached, he immediately asked, "Sirius? What is…?"

Sirius smiled and so did Lupin and Mr. Weasley.

"For his efforts in helping us and also considering our aurors spotted Peter Pettigrew very much alive and working in the service of Lord Voldemort, Sirius Black has been extended a proper and official pardon by the Ministry of Magic. As well…" Both Sirius and Harry were smiling but Mr. Weasley was insistent on finishing. "As well as the Order of Merlin: Honorary, for his valiant efforts in the fight against Voldemort even as the Ministry was wrongfully tracking him down."

Harry finally ran up to Sirius who threw his arms around his shoulders.  For a while, it was just a big laughing and crying and hugging session in which Lupin got dragged into as well. And for the first time, Harry caught a certain sparkle in his Godfather's eyes that he had never before seen.  When they eventually pulled away, they found themselves being smiled at by Mr. Weasley and McGonagall and glowered at by Snape.

Mr. Weasley then cleared his throat.  "There are two other orders of Ministry business to be dealt with before I can go on.  First, is a project.  It has come under my attention recently: the laws regarding werewolves.  I will admit that I never knew much on this matter, but I have had the opportunity to see how wrong and outdated those laws are.  I am assigning Mr. Remus Lupin to the task of researching and rewriting those laws.  However, I will be making one change immediately and that is the one barring those suffering from lyconthropy from entering auror training." It was now Lupin's turn to receive pats on the back while Snape still glared.

"Lastly…" and Mr. Weasley proceeded to pull out a velvet box from a pocket in his robes.  "I must apologize first, for there is normally a ceremony that goes with this.  Unfortunately, I currently do not feel a large party at the Ministry is wise at this time." The atmosphere suddenly became very solemn. "There is a certain individual who has on numerous occasions, risked his life in our fight against the Dark Arts.  He was not given much respect last time he performed his duties, but I am not about to let them go unnoticed now." Mr. Weasley patted the top of the box then carefully handed it over to Professor Snape.

Snape suddenly snapped out of his vulture-like stance and blinked at the box then reluctantly took it.  He studied it darkly before opening it.

Mr. Weasley had grown very quiet and was just now eyeing Snape's expression.

The dark, stony mask that Snape was so good at wearing suddenly melted away.  With a parted mouth, he stared dumbly at the contents of the box.  When McGonagall finally leaned over his shoulder to see, her mouth dropped open.  With shaking fingers, he lifted out a bright gold medal attached to purple and green ribbon.

"Order of Merlin: First Class," Mr. Weasley informed solemnly. "I believe you've earned it.  But it does not come without its price.  If Voldemort is not gone; if we must still fight him; these are going to be very difficult times for us since we can no longer rely on Dumbledore's guidance.  You, Severus, were his right hand.  I am hoping you will be able to help us.  I am drawing together everyone that I can to form the battle lines for this fight, and I am hoping you will be an important part of that."

Snape was still staring dumbly at the medal.

Mr. Weasley decided to leave him alone with it and turned to McGonagall.  "Now, Minerva.  There are pressing matters about the school that need to be addressed, most notably, the need for a headmaster." McGonagall pursed her lips, evidently preparing for what was coming.  "The board of governors have unanimously decided that since you have been such a successful and commanding presence here at Hogwarts for so many years, that we would like to offer you…"

"I am sorry, Minister," McGonagall said abruptly.  "But I hope to remain in my current position. I think that this school needs someone who not only can run a school, but who also can be a key figure in our fight against the Dark Arts."

Mr. Weasley looked taken aback.  He hadn't seemed prepared for this, neither did the board members.

"But," McGonagall continued, "I believe you have already selected our headmaster and have given ample reason to back up his suitability for this position."

"I have?" Mr. Weasley was searching McGonagall who was now looking at Snape. He followed her gaze, as did the board of governors.

Snape threw his medal back into its box and closed the lid with loud snap before staring wide-eyed back at all of them.  He seemed so stunned, that Harry actually thought he was going to topple over for he noticed that Snape did not have with him the cane he had been using.

Frowning, Mr.Weasley turned to the board of governors and they at once began softly arguing with each other, but it didn't last long.  Mr. Weasley turned back around. "If that is how you feel, Minerva, we cannot force you to take a position you do not want.  We have though, considered your recommendation of Severus Snape and have decided agree to it."

Snape looked down at the box he was holding and seemed to be breathing uncomfortably.

"Do you accept the board's offer?" Mr. Weasley asked.

It took a while for Snape to reply, but he managed to gather his composer and look up. "Yes, I'll accept."

There was a bit of silence before Mr. Weasley let out a sigh. "Well then. That's all the business that we came here for.  I'll now leave you, as you both," he spoke to McGonagall and Snape, "have a lot of things to do."

"Just one moment," McGonagall said quickly. "While I have the board here, there is one matter that I need to bring up." Some of the governors had turned to leave but they stopped and paid attention to Professor McGonagall. "We need two new professors for next year."

 "Three," Snape corrected.

"Three?"

"My cousin has decided to resign. He will not be coming back next year."

"Oh." McGonagall sensed there was something behind this but didn't ask. "Then three. We once again need a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, we'll also need a new Potions professor, and Rubeus Hagrid, who has been our Care of Magical Creatures professor has been doing work for the Ministry and that has taken much of his time.  He has asked if we could find someone to temporarily take over for him until his work with the Ministry is done."

The governors shifted uncomfortably and turned to one another.  Finding three professors to teach in Britain while Voldemort may be running around was a tall order.

"I have a suggestion," Mr. Weasley spoke up.  "My two sons, Bill and Charlie have decided to stay here for the time being but are in the need of employment.  Bill works in Egypt for Gringotts and I think would do well teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charlie works on a dragon reservation in Romania, so if you need a Care of Magical Creatures professor for just temporarily, he might take it."

The board members appeared happy about this. "We'll be sure to interview them, Minister."

Harry glanced briefly over at the new headmaster who lookrd less than ecstatic; he appeared to be attempting to grind his teeth to powder.  He then remembered what he wanted to say about Voldemort, but debated whether this would be a good time. He decided to lean over and whisper to Sirius, "I need to speak to someone."

"About what?" Sirius whispered back. "About Voldemort. I think I may know that he's alive and where he is."

Sirius stood back, shocked. "Um…Harry, how would you know? Are you sure you know where he is?"

Mr. Weasley stopped talking and looked over. "Is something the matter?"

Harry swallowed hard and scanned over all the eyes that were suddenly fixed on him.

"If you're sure about it, tell them," Sirius coaxed.

"Tell us what?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Harry glanced over at Snape who was now staring hard at him. "I think I may be able to say that Voldemort is alive."

The sound of a rat's sneeze could have been heard it was suddenly so quiet. 

"And how do you know this?" Lupin prodded.

Being next to Lupin and Sirius seemed to help. "I don't know. I'm not really sure, but ever since that night, I've seen things.  It's like I can suddenly see what Voldemort's seeing. I saw—I saw Dumbledore having a heart attack, and Professor Snape lying on the ground." He thought it best he just say all that he had to say. "For the past week, I've seen a fireplace—an old house.  I didn't understand it until this morning.  I saw a graveyard: the same one I was taken to by Voldemort last year.  There was a headstone that read Tom Riddle. But if it is through him that I'm seeing all this, he hasn't strayed far from the same house and I haven't seen anyone.  He's probably injured and can't go far. And…" Harry said, drawing out the wand from his robes, "I have his wand."

This startled everyone and some of the board members and professors backed up as if the wand were about to start casting hexes on its own.  Snape was the only one who made a motion to step forward. He was studying Harry with great interest and Harry could tell that his mind was churning.

"That's Voldemort's wand?" Mr. Weasley said in disbelief.  "How…?"

"Malfoy destroyed my wand," Harry explained. He then went on to tell them about what Mr. Ollivander had told him when he had purchased his wand and how he knew that he had a chance to Apparate using Voldemort's wand.  Everyone seemed to not believe what they were hearing except for Sirius, who had placed a hand on his shoulder, and Snape, who appeared to be sorting out something.

"But that doesn't explain why Harry can see what Voldemort sees," Mr. Weasley pointed out when he was done.

"No," Snape spoke lowly, "but I have an idea as to why that might be."

"You do?" it was Sirius who asked this.

"Yes. Potter, you and Voldemort both cast a spell at the same time on the same wand?"

"Yes, but…" He then remembered the strange and painful feeling that had filled him, that had seemed to flow into him.  He was about to say something about it, but he got the feeling that somehow Snape knew.

"What does that do?" Sirius demanded to know. "Is Harry going to be all right?"

"I don't know much about it.  It's not been recorded much, but I thought that might have been what happened when I saw it.  As you know, my cousin and I shared a sympathetic magical link, and that is how we got it to work.  By casting a spell at the same time on the same wand.  It's dangerous and it isn't usually strong.  We were similar enough that it worked to some extent, but since Potter and Voldemort have the same cores to their wands, the results would be very strong."

"But is he going to be all right?" Sirius repeated.

"He should be.  The dangerous part was when it occurred.  The only thing is, that this link—it works both ways."

It didn't take long for Harry to realize what this meant, and he was the first to speak up. "So Voldemort can now see what I see? He knows what spells I cast and where I am?"

"But he's safe here at Hogwarts?" Sirius was sounding very worried and he tightened his grip on Harry's arm.

"He's safest here," Snape agreed to some extent.  "The numerous enchantments on Hogwarts are ancient, added on by each successive headmaster. Basically, impenetrable.  I would suggest that Potter stay here though, until we know more about how strong this link is."

*

At first it had seemed like a wonderful thing.  He wasn't going back to the Dursleys! But now, as most of the Professors were leaving, he began to rethink it.  It appeared that the only staff staying for the entire summer were Snape, Filch, and Mrs. Norris. Sirius and Lupin would be by every now and then, but they would be busy for most of the time.

After seeing off his friends at the train station, Harry made his way back into the castle with Fawkes back at his perch on his shoulder.  He hadn't quite figured out how to keep him away and he hadn't the heart to cage him too often.  His footsteps sounded lonely as he headed down the corridor to the great hall.  It was still and empty.  He just slid down onto the floor near the doors and stared at the huge empty room.  The first time he had ever seen it completely empty.  There wasn't even a ghost.

Fawkes hopped down to the floor and sat at his side while he stared at the long tables with their vacant benches and at the black banners that had been left hanging in mourning from the rafters.

Harry had decided to hold onto Voldemort's wand until he could get another made.  It was slightly longer than his had been and it poked him in the side when he had sat so he pulled it out and stared at it, turning it slowly in his fingers.  This had been the wand that had killed his mum and dad.  This had been the wand to kill countless dozens and used to create havoc and unmeasurable pain in the world.  

For the first time, he allowed himself to dwell on Dumbledore.  Tears came to his eyes and he let them fall.

He sat there just mourning Dumbledore and petting Fawkes' soft plumage.  The ceiling to the hall reflected a beautiful summer day and rays of sunlight lit the room. He stayed there until the clouds began to turn pink and the light of the sun dimmed. After a while, he suddenly noticed that he wasn't alone.  Quickly, he attempted to smudge the tears with the sleeve of his robes before looking up into Professor Snape's face.

His expression was odd and indiscernible.  He was wearing his usual black robes and cape and his hair was as greasy as ever.  But he then did something very unexpected: he grabbed a hold of the wall for support and knelt down on one knee.

"May I see the wand?" there was no emotion to his voice.

Harry offered over the wand and Snape took it and darkly studied it.  While still holding it, he looked over at Fawkes then handed it back.

"I'll need to get a new wand," Harry informed.

Snape regained his feet and continued to stare at Fawkes.  "You've shown that it works for you."

"I don't want it." Harry's tone was a little bit more forceful than he had intended. "This wand has been used for horrible things."

"That it has." Snape said more as a thought than an answer.  "But it's not the wand that made terrible things happen.  In your hands it can do good."

Harry found this even more unexpected, but still, he didn't want it.  

"The phoenix," Snape said watching Harry continue to pet Fawkes. His changing the subject so suddenly didn't seem to bother him.  "He chooses the wizard.  You cannot force a phoenix to obey you, nor can you force him stay.  He stays on his own will.  A wizard has no choice in the matter of phoenixes—just as he has no choice in the matter of which wand has chosen him."

Snape finally looked away and said no more.  Harry then thought, for knowing Professor Snape for five years, he knew incredibly little about him.  And for all the strange witches and wizards he had met while a part of the wizarding world, he had to be the oddest, the most mysterious.

 Turning on his heel, Snape walked from the room.  Harry raised his eyes from Voldemort's wand—now his wand—and turned so that he could watch as the dark figure of the headmaster made his way down the empty corridor.

END OF THE FIRST PART

Continued in "The Death Eater Rebellion"


End file.
